Hear This Love
by Lynnth2014
Summary: A small country town in the middle of summer, filled with gossip and vacationers, and a young pair who meet and are faced with challenges. Friendly pet store worker, Carol, is determined to help Daryl, a local convenience store worker and house renovator, see the beauty of their small town and build a home, not just a house.
1. Rainy Day

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

––

"_Another sunny day in this little town of ours_," a man's voice crackled through the radio softly. "_You can expect some clouds rolling in around four this afternoon, but the sun oughta soak up the wet from last night's storm..._"

Inside the small general store/gas station, a young man was helping an older woman decide on which oil would be best suited for her car. He was only meant to run the counter, but he did know a thing or two about cars. He'd learned from his brother, so it was more of second nature to determined what would work best. He knew cars from his big brother and oil from his job, so he selected the best one for car and wallet. He rung her up and offered a smile when she thanked him and offered a five dollar bill to their donation jar.

"Thank you. Have a great day." The young man moved shoulder-length chestnut hairs back from his cheek and leaned back against the counter behind him once the woman had departed. He didn't mind the slow pace of this town, or that it felt isolated from the rest of the world, but he did mind how the day dragged when he had nothing to do. He wanted nothing more than to just bail out and go fishing or just chill out in front of his TV, but he still had six more hours on his shift. He wouldn't verbally complain. Coming here saved him from the world outside the town line, so he wouldn't complain. Verbally.

The bell jingled above the door, a boy of nine darted inside, his father's voice chastising him when he entered, and Daryl chuckled to himself. This was an every day occurrence, and it was great, because the boy—Carl—never changed. He always bolted in here and over to the homemade, old-fashioned lemonade his boss's wife put out fresh every morning. Daryl had sold about half of it so far, mostly to himself, because it was so damn good, but he always was sure to save Carl some. He may be a part time city boy, but he loved his old-fashioned, country lemonade more than anyone else.

"I'm sorry about that." Rick ran a hand through his hair, dark bag evident under his blue eyes, and Daryl suspected it wasn't from stress or a late shift. He likely had stayed up the entire night with Carl, catching up on everything, because he hadn't seen him in months. His ex-wife had Carl for the school year, and Rick had him for the summer. They had a weekend arrangement that Daryl couldn't make sense of it, but it worked for them.

"It's fine. At least I hadn't just mopped this time." He pushed off the counter top and folded his arms over his chest. "You look like warmed over dog shit."

"Thank you. I've tried for weeks to get this look, and now I'm there." He grabbed a couple bags of chips, and cold sandwiches from the fridge, looking back to see if Carl was on his way back up. "How's life, Daryl?"

"Same old, same old." He rang up his items, sighing to himself. He was a thirty-four year old man working at a general store/gas station in a sleepy town with his two year old dog and a beat up truck. He had no goals beyond saving up to move back to the city, and even then he had no clue what he was going to do once he got there, and everything seemed to be teetering on a string-thin edge. He had no future here but the one he was trying to plan was so glaringly blank it hurt his eyes to look at the page. It hurt even worse that it confirmed every shitty thing his father ever said about him. At least he was still alive to try and better himself, despite having no clue how to do that. Or where to start.

"And you?" He flicked open a bag and placed the items inside, the blue of his eyes shifting slightly to mask the disappointment in himself and his future, lip twitching just a bit as he tried to smile, and he nearly chocked on the lump in his throat. It was such a Monday today.

"I'm great. It's finally summer, so I have my son, and there's a new theme park a ways outside town. He's been talking about it ever since I told him." He spotted the amount rung up and dug the cash out of his battered leather wallet. It was as old as his marriage, only this held together. For now, anyway. He would have to invest in a new one. Maybe Nadia had some for sale in her store. He'd have to drop by. "And we'll have the town fair in June, so there's going to be a lot for us to do this summer."

Daryl noted the flash in his eyes and accepted the twenty, digging out his change. "So, it's all good then?"

"Between us, yeah." He shifted his weight, clearing his throat and tilting his head to the side as he confessed, "He just told me...he's gonna be a big brother."

"Oh?" Daryl wanted to abort mission right now. He wasn't the type of person to handle these kinds of situations. He could barely handle a normal, small-talk social interaction, let alone a huge, life-altering conversation. Shit. He knew Rick's wife when they were married, and Rick loved her with everything. They just didn't last, and she left him when Carl was five. She remarried a couple years later and now apparently, she was having her new husband's baby. Jesus H, this was why he didn't ask how people were. He just smiled and waved and offered support if they needed it. What could he possibly say to make this better? Or less awkward?

"I'm not still...in love with her or anything. This just came as a shock, because one of the reasons we divorced was I wanted more kids, and she didn't." He inhaled deeply, his breath catching, and Daryl tensed. "I suppose she just meant she didn't want more kids with me, and it's... it'll be fine."

"Dad, can I get this?" Carl ran back over with a huge bottle of lemonade, holding up a pack of Nadia's homemade fruit twists. Fresh from her backyard and kitchen, healthy and an energy boost—and covered in cartoon doodles from Nadia's granddaughter. She was a skilled artist, and it drew the kids in by hordes. "Please, Daddy? Please?"

Rick nodded. "Sorry, could you ring this up too?"

"No problem." He handed over the change from the first order and rang up the twists, letting the boy keep them as he hadn't offered to hand them over or anything, and Daryl wished them a good day on their way out. He helped himself to a bottle of water from the fridge in the back and shook his head at the conversation he'd been in.

To be married for twelve years and find out your wife wasn't in love with you anymore would be tragic. Then a couple months later when it came to light that she was involved with someone else and happy was a kick in the teeth. After two years, Lori had married her new man—whose name escaped him, because he didn't really care—and now she was pregnant two years later. Man, if that wasn't a warning against marrying your high school sweetheart, he didn't know what was.

He finished his shift right on time, mopping and dusting and restocking so Nadia and Dale didn't have to. He counted down his drawer, dropping it into the safe and clocking out. He locked up and checked the parking lot for any trash before climbing into his truck and heading for home with his windows down.

He had to admit this place did have one hell of a quiet night. Aside from the noise of night and nature, it was completely still. At this time of night, no one else was around, and it had quickly became his favorite time. To be alone with his thoughts and with his plans, to get some work done on his truck without prodding questions or terrible city noise, was a peace he didn't know he could ever long for. Perhaps that was part of what compelled him to stay. He had no privacy in the city, but here he was just Daryl Dixon, store employee, helpful hand. He wasn't the screw-up, drunk of his past, and that was sorely needed for his recovery. The last six years of his life had been hell, but he seriously doubted he'd found heaven here. It was temporary, like everything always was.

He sighed into the night air, the wind stealing his breath, and he found the usual path back home. He parked and sat in his truck for a moment, looking over the run-down house he'd been renovating for the past two years. It was coming along room by room, and he loved his work here, but it wasn't a home he'd live in and grow old it. It was to be prettied up and sold to the top seller, and he'd add those funds in with his savings and get out of here. Just because he enjoyed the silence, doesn't mean he liked what he found there.

Closing the door to his truck, he didn't bother to lock it, and he paused before whistling. He could hear the thunderous steps from inside the house to the porch and around to the door he'd made just for this reason, and he was knocked back against the truck door. He chuckled and found those big, blacks eyes shining up on him. He scratched his head.

"Hey, boy." He gently pushed the dog off him and bent down to rub down his spine and under his belly, being instantly attacked by tongue, and he groaned. "Nah, Spike, stop." He couldn't get him to stop, and he couldn't help but laughing. Had he known this dog would be this strong and this soft, he would have gotten him a different collar and better name.

The seventy-five pound dog stopped licking at his owners face and sat down in front of him, panting and waiting for orders. He had a beautiful coat of black and brown, a spiked collar resting on his neck with a bone-shape ID tag dangling there, and his tail still in its happy wagging. He was a smart dog, but he loved his own very much, so once greetings were side, he waited.

"Good boy." He dug out a bone he'd swiped from his work stash and handed it over. "Don't bury this in the flower bed. We have to actually put in flowers when we sell, and I'm not hittin' another set of bones."

He whined around the bone in his mouth but stood up and trotted inside.

"That doesn't mean hide it in my couch either," Daryl called after him, scratching a hand through his hair and following after his dog. He unlocked the front door and found Spike sitting on the couch, gnawing on the bone, and he hung his keys up, flicking the dead bolt.

The inside of the house was composed of mostly sheet-covered furnishings, white walls and plastic sheets dangling over the entrance to the sun room. He had yet to finish up his work from the weekend, so it wasn't fully a sun room just yet. It was definitely a room, though. Spike liked to spend his days in there, sitting and staring in on Daryl when he was off and not working on the room. It didn't make it any better than Spike was a black and brown blur through the sheets. He could only block it out for so long before Spike busted through the sheet and jumped on him to remind him to get off his ass and work. That, or go for their hike for that day. Probably both with that bossy ass dog.

He prepared a leftover casserole and stepped into the shower while it baked, Spike chomped on his bone, and a cool breeze blew through the plastic sheets. The house was horror-film quiet, but in the daylight and once finished, Daryl was certain it would be charming and tranquil to potential buyers. That was why he was throwing in a garden, to make it more approachable and lovely. Right now it was just a shack of white paint, plaster, plastic sheets and exposed wires. He'd been working on it for only a year and a half by himself, but he had hopes to wrap it up by next fall. He might need some help with it, though. He just didn't know who to ask. Two years and his best friend was the dog. He could remedy that, but at what cost?

He spooned out casserole into a bowl, scrubbing water from his hair, and he grabbed a fork from the drawer. Abandoning the leftovers on the counter, he plopped down on the couch beside Spike and began to eat his dinner.

Spike lifted his head at Daryl, not interested in the meal so much as his owner, and Daryl side-eyed him.

"What? You got a problem with how I'm dressed?" He wasn't dressed at all. He only had a towel wrapped around his waist, because it was just them here, and honestly, he didn't want to go upstairs just yet. He was still sore from the eight am jog with Spike through the trail behind the house, and stairs weren't his friends right now. His job had been brutal enough. Nine hours on his sore legs? Plus the cleaning and restocking? He didn't mind, but his body begged to differ. He'd regret this tomorrow.

Spike huffed and returned to his bone.

"You are so judgmental for a two-year-old, you know that? I don't have to impress you."

Black eyes moved to his, big and round and full of fake hurt at his words, and Daryl glared slightly at him. Spike collected his bone and headed upstairs with only one backward glance at his owner. He did the same motion at the top of the stairs to the rug at Daryl as he did when he tried to cover his shits outside with nature.

Daryl chuckled weakly and shook his head. Wow, why did he ever think he needed a woman? He had enough relationship trouble with a two-year old Belgian malinois.

The next morning had been hell. He'd slept through his alarm, Spike hadn't bothered to wake him up because he was still sore over yesterday, and he had no coffee. He threw on some toast, checked the weather report and grabbed a hoodie from the hall closet. He smeared jelly over the toast and headed out, telling Spike to be good and watch the house if he wanted a walk when Daryl got home.

Daryl drove the long way to work since his schedule was already behind and he had forty or so more minutes to spare. He noticed the grass was still wet and muddy, and he remembered going mudding with his brother when they were kids. It was so long ago, but it still came back to him. Clear as day he saw his older brother with mud in his curly hair, smudged onto his cheeks and even a couple of his teeth. His clothes were beyond repair, and the bike was gonna take weeks to clean. It had been worth it, and they had a great time. Until they got home anyway.

Daryl was startled out of the memory at a car zooming by him, and he rolled his eyes at the idiot youth of this town. He didn't take the long way, because of them. They were Paula Mason's kids, and they were loud and rude and often drunk or smoking around the general store on the weekend. He turned the hose on them when they lingered too long, but they still came. The two boys were the worse than the two girls, but they were all terrible. He couldn't wait until they grew up and moved on. At his progress with the house, that was the only way he'd be free of them.

"Get outta the road!" a voice howled laughingly on the wind. "Move it!"

Daryl looked over to see a woman walking just beside the road to avoid the mud, earbuds in her ears and reading a book. He watched as she was forced into the mud and fell as the oldest boy didn't slow down. He heard the boy cuss at her on his way by and saw red. That boy would be eighteen in a week. He really oughta watch his mouth before someone punched it shut.

He stopped his truck and got out. "Fucking asshole!" Daryl shouted after them, flipping them off as he did so, and one of the girls turned around and returned it, shouting something lost as the car sped away. "Pricks."

The woman was trying to stand up from the mud but slid again and silently gasped, Daryl heard the slap of mud and turned as she crashed back down. He cursed and ran over to help her out of the mud, seeing her shoes and dress were ruined by it, and he knew that wasn't a pleasant squish to have between your toes and thigh and other cracks.

"Here." He held his hands, she grasped them, and he hauled her out of the mud. Her shoes were lost in the process, along with her book, but she was out. He saw her earbuds were still in, her chest heaving as she soundlessly panted from the struggle and the assholes who knocked her down, and he apologized.

Sapphire eyes turned to him, appreciation sparking in the flakes of silver, and there were some tears of embarrassment at the entire situation there too. Her cheeks were painted in a soft rogue, and she inhaled deeply, preparing to thank him and attempting to even out her breathing. In this moment he took in her the long auburn waves down her shoulders, the color of those hair accentuating that flawless creamy skin of hers, and it was a soft beauty. She wore no makeup, revealing freckles along her nose and cheekbones, and despite exposure to sun, there was no hint of a tan on her. Sunblock, though. He could smell that. He'd never seen her before, certainly not on this road, because he would have remember her. She was...stunning, and it'd be hard to forget her.

He watched her hands move, and he frowned, not sure what she was doing. He wondered if the fall hadn't been as soft as it looked, and he pointed to her ear to pull the ear bud out. "Are you okay?"

She lowered her eyes and pulled them out, tucking them into an untouched pocket on her sundress. She chewed on her bottom lip and spotted the mud once more. She held up a finger and bent down, dipping her finger into it and writing letters on her hands.

"Uhhh?" Daryl frowned even more and bent down beside her, seeing her trace out T-H-X, and she showed him her hand with a smile. "What...does that mean?"

She shared his frown now and slowly stood up, rubbing the mud off on her dress and pointing to her throat, shaking her head. She then covered her ears and did the same. She studied him to see if he understood, and he slowly rose up off the ground.

"Oh, shit." He recalled her hands and their motions, and he felt a bit like an ass for not realizing it sooner. "You're deaf?"

She nodded.

"And mute?"

She held up a hand and made a so-so gesture. She didn't like to speak. She tried to when she was young and was made fun of for how her words sounded. It wasn't like she could judge the sound herself, so it was better to just...not speak.

"Then what the hell were you thinking walking on this road? It's always a death trap with those asshole Mason kids! You shouldn't be walking alone, and not here. There's a park for walking, and you're less likely to ruin your clothes and book that way." He gestured to the still sinking novel in the mud, and she crossed her arms at him. "And why the hell do you have earbuds in?"

She huffed and shook her head.

"Right, I... I couldn't understand your answer." He chuckled at his worthless lecture and looked at his watch. "Okay, I have some time. Do you need a ride home? Where do you live?"

She shook her head again and collected her items from the mud, straining to collect the book, and he leaned over and grabbed it for her. He was taller and had longer arms, and she smiled at him. She waved and continued down the road with her muddy belongings, and he let her for about five seconds. She looked over when he moved into her peripheral vision. She stopped, and he stopped.

"I can't let you walk home alone. You almost got hit by the trash kids, and they'll be back." Probably gone off to steal beer and find weed. "Let me give you a ride home, please."

_You don't know the way,_ she thought to herself. _And I couldn't tell you_. She looked back at his truck and then to him to see he wasn't going to let this go. She didn't want to get mud all over his car, and she had no way to tell him how to get her home. He had to realize that, right?

"Here." He dug his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, finding a memo pad and holding it out to her. "Just type in where you live, and I'll get you home."

_Huh, crafty_, she thought, accepting the phone and chuckling to herself, typing out the directions to her friend's house. It was closer, and Carol was on her way to see her anyway, so it was a win-win situation. She thanked him in the directions for the help and returned the phone with another smile.

"Great." He returned her smile. "You're welcome. C'mon."

She set a hand on his arm and gestured to her muddy clothes.

"It's fine. I have a dog, and he gets muddy all the time. I'm used to having to clean it up." He shrugged a shoulder. "It's fine."

She didn't feel any less guilty, but she did follow him back to the truck and accept his ride. It was a bit awkward. He seemed to want to talk to her, but he had no way of understanding her answers. He had a notepad in his car, she noted, but it was dangerous to ask him to look at it while driving. She kept her head down and waited for the truck to stop, and he wished to God he had a radio. Then he wished to God he had a brain, because it wouldn't make anything less awkward for her. She couldn't hear it and feel less uncomfortable able this situation. Only he could. He no longer blamed Spike for looking at him like he was an idiot, because he was.

He dropped her off at her house, she smiled a thanks and headed inside, and he spotted a woman waiting for her. He leaned forward a little to see them having a conversation... sort of. The woman was one he'd met many times. She was the reason he had Spike. She owned the pet shop and offered him one of her dog's puppies as a welcoming gift, and she'd given a discount on food, bowls and a couple of toys. Michonne was her first name, and he didn't know or remember her last name. She seemed close to the woman he'd met, and he wondered if they were a thing. They did live together, and Michonne knew ASL, so maybe.

Although that was rude to assume. Maybe Michonne liked learning and met this woman through some random event like he did. They hit it off, because Michonne could understand her, and this was just a great friendship. They just moved in together, because who wants to be alone, and now Michonne was walking over to him with an unreadable expression on her face. He really should have driven away. Oh, fuck.

He turned his truck off and climbed out to meet her. "Hey, Mich."

"Hey." She smiled at him. "Carol told me you helped her?"

"Carol? That's her name?" He looked over his shoulder at the woman watching them from the porch. "Uh, yeah. I... Those Mason kids ran her off her road, and I helped her get out of the mud. I figured it was too much of a risk for her to walk home, so I brought her."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate that." She tucked her hands into her pockets. "She wants to talk to you."

"Talk to me?" He glanced back again, and she waved. "How can she talk to me?"

"Through me." She straightened her posture. "Are you busy?"

"I have to be at work in ten minutes."

"All right then I'll give you the short." She cleared her throat. "She wants to thank you for helping her, and she would like to make up dirtying your car. She wants to clean it for you."

"No, that's not necessary. I can handle it."

"I told her that, but she wants to make it up to you."

"It's not a big deal. Anyone would have helped her."

"No, they wouldn't have." Michonne searched his eyes. "We both know small towns aren't full of nice people, just people. They would have marked her off as not their problem and driven on. You didn't. We both appreciate that."

"I accept the thanks, but I got it. I should get going, too, so I'm not too late. Um, I'll see you around, though." He grasped the handle to his truck and hesitated. "Hey, Michonne?"

"Yes?" She paused on turning to leave.

"How long has she lived here?" He honestly have never seen this woman before. Carol. "I don't think I've seen her before."

Michonne chuckled. "She works at my shop, Daryl. You've literally tried to talk to her twice before she come and got me. Do you remember when you switched from puppy to dog food? That was her you asked for help from."

He blinked. "No."

"Yes, and you talked to her about ways to train Spike so he doesn't need a leash. She offered you books. You bought three of them."

"Oh, God." He couldn't remember any of that. He did recall the events of training and the food, but she wasn't present in his memories, only checking out with Michonne. Damn, how did he not remember her? "And she's always been there?"

She pressed her lips together and stepped closer. "Are you sure you're not blind?"

"I'd say no, but I can't promise that anymore."

She laughed. "Get to work, Dixon. I'll take care of her from here. Thanks again." She waved on her way back to the porch and told Carol of the conversation.

_He doesn't want my help_. She frowned. _But I want to make it right. He helped me so much._

"Nope," Michonne spoke and signed to her friend. "He says he'll handle it."

She nodded and looked over at the empty space where his truck once was. _I'm going to shower. Do you have anything I can borrow?_

"You know I do." She grinned at her. "C'mon. I just made lunch, too."

_Good timing then._ Carol smiled and closed the door behind them.


	2. Candles In The Rain

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

––

The radio cracked as Livin' on a Prayer began to stream out of its speakers, Daryl shifted on the stool he sat on, and he looked out the window at the empty streets. It was raining today. Nobody was out useless they had to be, and he wanted to just go home. He had the okay to close up early at eight, but he was killing time, to be honest. He was off for the weekend, and he had to finish up the sun room. He'd some work on it the last couple of days, adding the stained glass along the ceiling and walls, and he'd picked out the paint. He had to pick it up from the hardware store, but he would do that on his way home. He wasn't in the mood to paint, so he'd leave that for tomorrow.

The bell jingled, he blinked back into reality and greeted the customer, and he found himself greeting the sheriff. He honestly didn't see the point of having one in this place, but hey, it gave her a job, and he trusted her to correct the small injustices. Maybe arrest one of those Mason kids one day. He could hope.

"Hey, Tara." He waved to her kids, Enid and Noah, and Tara told them to pick out a snack. He didn't know why the kids were with her. They were normally with their other mother, Denise. She was a therapist who ran sessions at home, so she was sort of a stay-at-home mom. He wondered what happened to make Tara take them with her. "Everything okay?"

Tara tucked loose hair from her bun back behind her ear and heaved a sigh. She was only a couple years older than him, but right now she looked about fifteen years older. Brown eyes were worn and exhausted, raven hairs barely contained in its hair tie, and her normally tan skin was pale, almost sickly pale, and she shook her head. "It's been...a rough day. Denise is sick, and I think I'm getting sick, so I'm sending the kids to my sister's so we can rest and get better. Sadly, I have to drive them, and I'm exhausted."

The kids were Enid and Noah Chambler, both adopted when Tara was a big city cop. Enid's parents had been in a car accident, and Tara was the one to tell their next of kin, who was only a five year old girl at home with a babysitter. Tara couldn't just leave her with a social worker, so she and her wife made the decision to adopt her. Enid knew of her parents, but she called Tara and Denise Mom. She even sometimes looked them like, with those blue-grey eyes and long dark hair. She was only nine, but she was wiser than her age. Daryl enjoyed a good game of cards with her when Denise needed him to watch her while she and Noah got surprise birthday gifts for Tara or something. He didn't mind, but she did cheat a lot. He had to cheat just to counteract her cheating, and the brat called him out on it. He revealed the card under her sandwich with a corner nibbled off by mistake, and they'd been friends ever since.

As for Noah, his parents were involved in a drive-by with him in the backseat. They were going out to celebrate his father's raise, and that his mother was healthy for eight months pregnant with twins. They never meant to be in that neighborhood at that time, but they were caught by mistake, and only Noah survived. His mother and father were dead on arrival, and they tried to save the twins and almost managed to save one, but he didn't survive through the night. Noah was an orphan at three, because no one would come to claim him for fear of the drive-by being on purpose.

So Denise adopted him. She was working with him to see if he knew anything, and he was just a scare little boy. She couldn't let the system destry his already cracking mind, so she took him in. He was eleven now, and he was a good kid. Brave and quiet when he needed to be. He knew respect, and Daryl let him sweep the store now and then for five bucks. The kid was eager and a good worker. When he hit sixteen, he'd be the one sitting here, working to save. Only for college, not a move, but still. Daryl would be proud to help him get there before he moved himself.

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"It really does." She leaned against the counter. "It's summer, dude. We were going to go camping, hiking and fishing, and I'd sit back and tan while they did all of that. We had a plan."

He chuckled. "I think Noah's got you beat on the tan."

"He really does, but I'm hopeful I'll beat him one day." She smirked to the left of her mouth and looked over at her kids deciding on candy or chips. "I mean, it's not too obvious he's not mine, right?"

"Are you joking with me right now?" Daryl wasn't sure, and she flashed a grin. "Do you want me to lie to you?"

"He could be bircial. You can't tell."

"Tara, you're a lesbian. I don't need to tell. Besides, I've never seen you pregnant, and I know the whole backstory."

"Humor me, please. I need humor. I just threw up my anniversary dinner."

He leaned back away from her. "I'm sorry. There's medicine in aisle three."

"I went to the doctor. It's fine. I'm not contagious." She snuffled and called to them to hurry. "Get two snacks and a drink, just hurry up, please."

"Yes!" Enid ran to the cooler to get an energy drink.

"I'll let Lilly regret this." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cough drop. "Ugh, this is Denise's. It's cherry."

"Cough drops are in aisle three." He pointed to the way. "Honey lemon, strawberry and some homemade drops Nadia made."

"That woman should just sell her homemade stuff. She'd make a killing." Tara headed down to the aisle three to collect the homemade drops.

"Yeah, but she isn't interested. I've tried to get her to see the benefits, but she'd rather sell at home." He watched Noah and Enid dropped off an energy drink, a lemon-lime soda, two bags of nacho-flavored chips and then went down aisle one for some type of pastry. He began to ring them up, seperating the items in a Noah bag and an Enid bag, and the bell rang out again. "Hello."

There was no response, and he lifted his head to see Carol closing an umbrella and setting it in the corner by where his was. He smiled and dropped a snack size bag of chips into a bag. She didn't look up just yet, but when she did, she returned his smile and waved a greeting.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Who are you talking to?" Tara rounded the corner and spotted Carol. "Oh, hey, how are you?"

_I'm well, thanks for asking. Are you okay? _She pointed to the cough drops with concern settling over her face._ Are you sick? Or the kids?_

"No, the kids are fine. They're fighting over who gets the last bear claw." She could hear them bickering, trying to be soft-spoken about it, but they were eleven and nine. They had no idea what real soft spoken was. "Guys, neither of you will get it if you don't stop!"

"That's not fair." Enid ran to her mom. "He took it from me. I had it in my hands, and he just snatched it, Mom."

"Is that true, Noah?" Tara knew it was, because he hadn't come running to call her a lair, and she set the cough drops down on counter. "Noah, pick something else. Now."

"Fine! Whatever!"

Carol giggled at Tara's expression. _Kids, right?_

"Seriously." She rolled her eyes and set a hand on Enid's head. "Go get the bear claw. Get me some honey while they're down there. The raw kind."

"Okay." She skipped down the aisle to claim her treat.

"Wait," Daryl realized Tara and Carol were commicating, "you understand her?"

"It's ASL, not Latin." Tara cut a playful look to Carol, who chuckled and bit her lip, and Tara turned to Daryl. "Pretty much everyone learned when Carol moved here, but that was years ago, so it makes sense you don't know how."

"You all learned for her?" Daryl gaped at her. "The entire town?"

"Of course. She's one of us, so we learned. Michonne already knew how, so we took lessons to surprise Carol."

_It was very sweet_, Carol signed. _You don't know how much it still means to me._

"I loved learning it, and I love our talks. Seriously, you should ask her for avise. She's great for it," she told Daryl. "And with your renovations, she might be able to speed them alo—"

"Mom, he smashed it!" Enid fussed.

"I did not!" Noah called back. "You're such a lair."

"I am not, you jerk!"

"Excuse me." Tara inhaled and went to lecture her kids about public and yelling and not ruining other people's property—again.

Daryl did not want to be those kids. Tara had one hell of a scowl, and she was already sick and told them what was what. They asked for it at this point, but he wouldn't watch through the mirrors. He could, but he wouldn't.

"How are you doing?" Daryl asked Carol then remembered he wouldn't get an understandable answer. "Oh, wait, I—"

She shook her head and held her hand out to him, he was confused, but she tapped her palm with her index finger, and he lifted his own hand up to hers. She grasped it and traced out _I'm OK_ onto his palm then _How are you?_ She met his eyes curiously.

"I—I'm okay, too." He smiled softly at her. "You good from that fall? No scrapes or bruises?"

_Nope_, she traced onto his palm. _Your car Ok?_

"Yeah, I cleaned it out. It wasn't too hard. My dog makes a worse mess." He shrugged a shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You don't owe me anything."

_Thank you_. She squeezed his hand affectionately and traced out. _Candles_?

"Yeah, in aisle three."

She smiled and thanked him, releasing his hand and going to the aisle he mentioned to locate birthday candles. She knew Nadia stocked them, and she sorely needed them. She'd forgotten until Michonne reminded her. She'd made the cake and everything, too. She had no clue where hear head.

"Okay, go wait in the car." Tara returned with the smashed bear claw, a package of chopped apple slices and a danish while the kids stomped back to the car, bickering still with each other. "Add these to the order and give me a shot of gin."

"You want some tonic with it? I was about to help myself to a couple."

"If I wasn't driving, I would join you." She pulled her debit card out. "My wife would kill me if my better judgement wasn't...my better judgement."

"Oh, the card reader's down 'cause of the rain." He winced apologetically. "Sorry."

"It's cool. I have cash. I'll be right back." She tossed her hood up and went out to her car.

Carol returned with some birthday candle and saw Tara's items still on the counter. She took a place in line and wondered if they had any matches. Or a lighter. She had candles in her room, but the lighter was out of fluid. She'd have to buy some more. Maybe they had some, because she didn't actually live with Michonne. Jeez, she spent enough time visting to live there, though.

"You find everything?" He watched as her brows furrowed, losing herself to her thoughts, and he wondered if he could help.

She nodded.

An awkward silence settled between them, Daryl looked out the window to see Tara bickering with the kids, and he looked back at Carol, who could only offer a smile, and he wanted to crawl out of his own skin. He had already busied himself with bagging all of Tara's items, so there was nothing more to do but wait. He would normally chat on stupid crap like this rain, but her response would be restricted due to him not understanding ASL and his palm not being big enough for her opinion. Kinda killed any conversation topic he could come up with.

Luckily Tara returned with moist cash, and he was grateful to get her paid for and out of the way. He wanted to talk to Carol a little before she left, but she received a text and rushed through the already short check out. He told her to have a good night, she waved and headed out. He sighed in disappointment, because he was interested in her. To have been in the same town with her and to have spoken at her but not remembering her was impossible. He had to recall those memories. He couldn't have forgotten her so easily. She was unique, for one thing, and she was a knock out for another.

"You know," Tara cut into his thoughts and reminded him that she hadn't left yet, "there are ways to learn ASL so you can talk to the lady."

"Shut up." He couldn't help the blush that shot up through his cheeks and neck. "It ain't like that."

"It's not? Okay, my bad. I missed the part where you longingly stared after me and every other customer who comes in." She simpered at him and nodded. "Sure."

"I—it isn't. I feel bad is all. I—I've talked at her twice, and I got no memory of it. Just...tryin' fill in my memory." He coolly shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know her to be interested enough to learn."

"Well, the library has some videos, if you...you know...ever do get interested." She pushed open the door and winked at him before slipping out into the rain.

"Asshole!" He called after her, leaning over the counter and cutting a look in the direction Carol walked off him. Completely correct but still an asshole. Just like his dog... "Christ." He needed friends. Human friends, because he couldn't keep comparing people to his damn dog!

He drug a hand through his hair and looked down at the handle Carol had traced out words on, feeling a tingling under his skin from her absent touch. He closed his fist and looked out the window again.

– – –

_Sorry, I'm late._ Carol kissed Andre's temple and smiled a welcome._ Happy birthday, Andre_.

"Thank you." He returned her smile and paused his video game. "You're soaking wet."

_I know. I got caught in the storm. _She had left her coat and shoes outside, but she was still shivering and wet. _I'll change and be right out. Your mom's home?_

"In the kitchen." He nodded his chin to her bedroom. "She's making dinner."

_Thank you, love._ She stepped into the kitchen and found Michonne preparing his favorite meal and saw the table ready with his gifts and a couple cards from family members. She dug the candles out of her pocket, removing them from the plastic bag and finding the cake in the fridge. She tore the package open and placed them carefully on the cake, glad she'd been reminded of this before it was time for dessert.

She'd made his favorite cake of all time—chocolate—with white chocolate buttercream frosting, making a web pattern in melted unsweetened chocolate chips and she'd found a few cheap but recongizable Spiderman figurines as toppers. Now she had the Happy Birthday candles in place, and it was the perfect cake for the big boy of eight years today.

Michonne lightly tapped her shoulder, and Carol stood up, closing the door, looking at her. "Oh, wow. That's amazing."

_Thank you. I worked hard on it, and I love how much he loves Spiderman, so I just went with it._

"It being?"

_A million turoritals on how to make web patterns and white chocolate frosting_, she replied with a giggle.

"He'll love it." She embraced her as thanks, and at her body coming into contact with Carol's cold and wet clothes, she slowly moved back to eye her. "Carol."

_I forgot the candles. I had to run out and get them. It's fine. I'll just change and be ready for dinner in ten minutes. Less than! _She stepped back and hurried to Michonne's room to change into the backup outfit she'd brought in case of more mud or rain, and she was back in business a moment later.

"Dinner's ready." Michonne sent a narrow look to Carol, who nodded and offered a thumb's up. "Andre, wash up."

"Yes, Mom." He paused the came and headed to the bathroom, and Carol went to help him scrub away the germs of school.

They all moved to the kitchen together, Michonne and Carol both jumped in front of him and said surprise! He gasped and ran over to the gifts and cake and his favorite meal, grinning. He'd had a party at school with cupcakes from his teacher, and he thought that was it. He thought his mom had brought the cupcakes and had the teacher pass them out, but no. This was way cool. Yes! Double the gifts and double the sweets.

"Thank you!" He hugged his mom tightly. "I love you."

"I love you, too, baby."

"And this cake is so cool." He tackled Carol next, and she stumbled back, barely catching him. She hugged him tighly, kissing his hair, and he pulled so she could see. "I love you so much," he signed. "It's totally cool. Thank you."

_I love you so much_. She bent down to be a height with him._ I would make you a million cakes to celebrate this day, because you are one of a kind and deserve every one of them._

He grinned.

_Let's eat._

Michonne had a homemade fest of favorites—macroni and cheese, chicken nuggets, breaded orka, corn bread, mashed potatoes with chives and chocolate milk. The milk was store-bought, but Michonne made everything else. Carol wanted to help, but Michonne wanted to do this herself. It was his first birthday without his father, and Michonne wanted this to be perfect. They'd had a rough couple of years, but this one had been great. She was celebrating it thus far, and they would have Carol's yummy cake to cap it off, so it was good. More than good.

_It's so good_, Carol complimented Michonne, helping herself to more orka and ptoatoes.

_Thank you._ Michonne had to opt for water over chocolate milk, but Andre didn't mind. It was meant more for him. "Be sure to save room for cake," she told her son.

"Duh."

"Well, excuse me." She laughed softly at the insulted tone to his words. "So, anything interesting happen today at school?"

This began a prolonged story of his school surprise party, Michonne regretted asking, because this story had time jumps back and forth, and Andre kept losing track of it. She was happy to hear about his day, but the boy was only seven. He had no story-telling skills. If she didn't love him and it wasn't his birthday, she would have fallen asleep. She was thrilled he'd gotten sung to by his class and got a big cupcake after lunch. He still had blue icing on the corner of his mouth, but she didn't want to mention it. He seemed happy with how his day went, and it was too late to say anything now.

"And then we got an extra ten minutes at recess for my birthday," he told them, squirming in his chair in delight at the mac and cheese on his plate. "And Mrs. Monroe didn't even care that I had missed a couple problems on my homework. She helped me with them, and I got a hundred."

"Wait, I thought I went over the homework last night." She was sure she had once she closed the shop. Or...was that yesterday? Oh, God, she hated this stupid new program. It was great for Andre to pick up some new skills and to have someplace to be while she worked, but ugh school still sucked. It was only for the first two weeks of June, but man, two weeks was too much.

He shrugged a shoulder and gobbled down a chicken nuggest.

Michonne turned to Carol and shook her head at her son. "How was your day? Anything happen?"

_Not really. _She met her eyes. _I was with you at work then I made the cake and went to the store to get candles. I did run into Tara._

"How is she?"

_Sick. I think she's taking her kids to her sister's. They had overnight bags in the car and were piling on the road trip snacks._

"Aww, that stinks. It's summer and to be sick? That's just crap." She drank from her water glass. "Who was working the store? Dale?"

_No, it was Daryl._ She reached for a glass of chocolate milk.

"Oh? How is he doing?"

She made a so-so gesture. _We didn't talk much. He had to help Tara, and I had to get back here for dinner. _

"He's a good guy. I think you'd make a good friend with him, but it's up to you. You can't really communicate with him."

_And I can't ask him to learn for me either. _She pursed her lips._ Besides I hear he's moving after he fixes up that house. It'd be too sad to make friends with him just for him to move away._

"He'll never finish that house. He procrastinate worse than Andre." She tapped her fork on her plate and peered at Carol. "He needs help with it. You're pretty good at décor and repairs. You fixed up your cottage."

_Yeah, but Rick helped me. And Tara and Denise. I had loads of help. It wasn't just me, and how can I help him? He can't even understand me. It's a barrier, Michonne. And he'll manage. I'm sure he'll be fine._

"Just check it out. What else do you have to do?"

_You just want to see the finished product and buy it._

"Of course I do. It's in a beautiful, isolated location, and I have access to a pond to fish in. Trails to run. Ugh, I could get another dog. Or a cat."

"Or both," Andre chimed in.

_Don't encourage her_, Carol lightly scolded. _Let him build it in his own time. You have a perfectly good home here. I won't let you sell it just yet. I love having you both so close._

"I know, and we feel the same way, but we need a fresh started in a new home. It's either that house or out of town, and I love it here. I grew up here, and I want my son to grow up here. I'm not forcing you to help him so we don't move out of town or anything, just letting you know where I am. It's been...difficult on us—all of us. Don't forget that. There are few happy memories here."

Carol lowered her eyes._ I know. I'm sorry._

"No, I'm sorry." She reached out and set her hand on Carol's. "Hey, don't worry about it. I'll look into homes already built and up for sale then make sure no crazies move in here, okay? Deal?"

She weakly smiled. _Yeah._

"Can we have cake now?" Andre was leaning over the table to try and reach the cake in the center. "Please? It smells _soo_ good."

"Andre, it's barely seven. Calm down."

_Oh, it's almost seven?_ Carol checked the clock._ I have a date at seven-thirty._

"Okay, cake it is." Michonne stood up to get a lighter. "Tell this man when I meet him, I want to know why he doesn't feed you."

Carol rolled her eyes._ Because you feed me._

"That's true." She averted her eyes. "Fine, I'll stop."

_Never._ Carol ate her corn bread.

Michonne located a lighter, Carol helped Andre up to stand on a chair, and Michonne lit the the candles, singing happy birthday to him. Carol recorded the moment on Michonne's phone, grinning when Andre blew out the candles and scooped some icing up to taste. Michonne swatted his hand lightly to cut him a piece, and Andre scolded her right back. Carol took a few photos and asked them to save her some leftovers and a piece of cake. She retrieved her rainboots and umbrella, Andre hugged her goodbye and thanked her for the cake and presents. Michonne promised to send her pictures and vids of him opening his gifts, and Carol departed out the back door to her car.

"All right, kid. It's just you and me." Michonne turned to find Andre cramming cake into his mouth, stopping only when she spoke and peering at her. "I don't know what I expected, but somehow this wasn't it."

He chuckled and grinned, dropping cake pieces onto the table cover.

She crossed her arms. "God, I love my life."


	3. Communication Error

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

––

Carol woke up to movement, her eyes fluttering open before falling shut once more. She realized in the breif moments her eyes opened that this wasn't her bedroom. She shot up and saw movement beside her, eyes landing on her boyfriend, and she calmed herself down. She checked the time and saw it was barely two in the morning. She frowned and lifted her eyes to his and saw he was getting dressed. He'd also turned on the lamp beside him to its lowest setting, and she hugged the sheets to her chest.

"I'm just going to the bathroom," he lied.

_Fully dressed?_

"It's...cold in there." He tried to smile, but she looked more hurt than angry, and he sighed. "That's a lie."

_What's going on? _She inquired, reaching up to brush hair out of his face. He had been distant during their entire date. He didn't even hold her hand like he normally did when they watched movies, and he was out of it during. _If it's about your son finding us, I think he already knows I'm here._

"Yeah, no, it's..." He set a hand on her arm. "I...It's not you. It's...not even about Carl."

_Then what's it about?_ She set her hand over his on her forearm._ Rick?_

"I...found out my wife is pregnant."

_Okay?_

"Christ, Carol, we were together since we were thirteen."

_And you've been divorced for four, five years now? Lori has moved on with husband and now a baby. You... you told me you had moved on to, but clearly you haven't._ She shook her head and climbed out of bed to gather her clothing.

"It's not about—Carol, wait." He tried to stop her from getting dressed and storming out, and he grabbed her pants from the floor before she could. "Wait, please."

_I did wait. You asked me out last year, and I said no, because I didn't think you were ready. I waited that entire year for you to be ready, and just last month you told me you were. You said you were ready and wanted to date me, but now I find you bailing out after sex. If I wanted just sex with you, I would have said yes a year ago, but I didn't. I cared enough about you say no and put your interest ahead of my desires. I'm not going to wait anymore. _She snatched pants from him. _If you want to be hung up over a long ended marriage then fine, just don't involve me._

"It's not about being ready or not being ready; I just need time to process everything, okay? I thought I was ready. I honestly did." He searched her teary eyes, and he set his hands on her shoulders. "I made a mistake, and I am sorry. I shouldn't have asked you out last month. I'm just not ready. I've spend so much of my life with her, and... I guess I'm not ready to share what's left with someone else, even someone as...special and important to me as you."

She dropped her eyes and shuddered, nodding. _I'm going then_. She pulled her pants on and looked for her rain boots.

"I never meant to hurt you, Carol. I really didn't."

_You never hurt me until right now_, Carol confessed, looking up at him with damp lashes and trembling shoulders. _You knew about this confusion and this pregnancy before I even came to see you today. Yet you let it fester while we watched a movie with your son, while we went bowling, while we...were having sex. I watched you try and figure something out, but you didn't even notice I was there. So don't tell me you didn't mean to hurt me. It's bullshit._

He swallowed hard and tried to speak, but she shook her head. "Please—"

_Just treat the next woman better than this_. She turned on her heel and left his bedroom, finding her keys in her pocket and grabbing her umbrella on the way out. She hurried to her car, tossing the umbrella into the backseat, and she couldn't start the car and drive out of there soon enough. She drove slow, because her vision as blurred by tears, but it was unlikely she'd encounter another person on this road at this time. It was still storming, and it time to rest. Just not for her, apparently.

She exhaled shakily, gripping the wheel tightly and kicking herself. She knew it wasn't a good idea. She'd known him since he moved here, and she'd seen the mess his divorce had made him he was emotionally distant and hardly spoke to anyone. Hell, he probably only spoke to her, because he didn't have to use words, and she couldn't hear how broken he was inside. He even told her he wasn't one for words, but he liked that they could talk without them. They were better suited to be friends, but she was stupid enough to believe he was over his wife and was interested in a relationship with her. God, she was just a bandage for him. And she knew better. Fuck, she knew better, and she still fell for it.

She stopped in the middle of the road and hit the steering wheel with her palm, wanting to scream. She wasn't heartbroken about their break up. She was so angry at herself. She had tried and put herself out there, and she was given this. After everything else that had happened, she was given this. It was the cruelest joke she'd ever lived. She hated herself right now. She always fell for the obvious jokes, didn't she?

She wiped tears from her eyes and saw something yellow blur across her windshield, brightened by her headlights. She snuffled and opened the door to see who was out there, and her eyes fell on Daryl from the gas station in a rain coat with a flashlight and a...dog bone, maybe?

She placed her car in park and stepped out of her car. She closed the door with a slam, getting his attention, and she walked over to him. She wanted to ask what he was doing here, but he wouldn't understand that. She searched his eyes as best she could with the rain and the wind whipping at them, and he looked upset. What had happened?

"You should go home," Daryl shouted over the wind. "It's gettin' bad out here."

She shook her head and grasped his empty hand, drawing a question mark there, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

"It—it's just my dog being an asshole." He chuckled mirthlessly. "He—he got out out of my house and took off into the woods. I didn't have time to walk him, and apparently he decided now was the time. I have to find him, just go home. You'll catch a cold."

She poked his finger to say _so will you._

"You can't help me find you. You don't even know what looks like."

She rolled her eyes. It's a dog in the rain, how hard could that be? She wrote _Helping_ out on his palm, and she scanned the area for movement. She would let her car run. It was in park, and honestly a toasty car to come back would be nice. This might actually make her evening better. Finding a puppy dog and forgetting her not really boyfriend of an ex.

"You can't be serious right now." Daryl watched her for moment. "Shit, you are serious."

She pointed to the left and then to right to ask which way, and he shook his head for no. She stomped her foot and shook her head back at him. He wasn't going to traipse through the woods in the rain at night to find his dog alone. If he got hurt by sliding in the mud or not seeing a drop off, she could help. She had rope in her car and a first aid kid. She was staying.

"No."

She held a finger up at him and glared, mouthing_ I'm staying_ slowly at him before taking out the flashlight in her coat pocket. She used it for emergencies, and this was one of them, so suck it. She pointed the light head, and he groaned at her but nodded. She was about to turn when he took a hold of her hand. She frowned.

"I lost the dog. I don't need lose you, too. C'mon, just stay close and if you see him, squeeze my hand."

She nodded again.

They headed into the patch of trees across the road, Carol minded how her boots sank into the dirt, and Daryl decided to just throw the entire outfit away. They headed deeper into the woods, Daryl saw few paw prints filling with water in the dirt, but he couldn't be sure they were Spike's. The rain was distorting the print, but if he were running at top speed, maybe. He couldn't be sure, but it was the lead they had. He didn't want Carol out in this longer than she had to be, and he guided her down the path of paw prints, reminding himself that he loved his animal, and it was just a two-year-old's tantrum. He wouldn't be stashing bones away for a while, but that was just a given.

He felt Carol's hand tighten in his, he looked over to see if Spike was there, but Carol had just tripped. He helped her out of the hole she was sinking into and almost laughed. If someone had told him this is how he'd been spending his weekend, he would have gotten drunk before he got home. Spike was a brilliant dog. He'd find his way home, and Daryl would be recovering from a hanger over, not feeling guilty about dragging a stranger into the woods in the middle of a storm to find his bratty, temperamental puppy. Next time Michonne offered him a dog, he'd get a girl. Maybe she'd like him better. Or at least not want to torture him like Spike loved to.

Carol was already over every decision she had ever made with men before this moment in time, but this was the funny type of over it. She never thought she'd been sinking into the dirt with Daryl beside her, trying to find a dog at two, three in the morning in the middle of a rain storm. She thought she'd go home and drink white in the bath and enjoy her weekend off. She was completely over this rain. It was uncalled for and annoying as all fuck. To think she used to enjoy listening to the rain when she was a kid. No more. Well, obviously, but still. She was in the mindset now.

They searched the patch of woods until the trail became pure mud slush, and Daryl had nothing to go off of. He was clearly worried for his dog, and Carol tightened her grip on his hand comfortingly. He called it quits, because rain was just coming down harder, and she was shaking. He was covered in mud and moss, and this search wasn't going anywhere. It broke his heart to think of Spike all alone in the cold rain, but he had nowhere else to look. If Spike made it to town, someone would find him and call Daryl in the morning. He knew that dog wasn't lost to him, but it still hurt. Jesus, let him be okay.

They returned to solid ground, Carol looked emphatically up at him, and he told her it was all right. He'd find that dog and give him a good what for, and Carol smiled softly at him. She asked about his car by writing on his hand, and he didn't know how to tell her he'd left his truck at home. It was struck in mud, mostly, but aside for that, he just ran after Spike with the flashlight from the porch and a bone the asshole left for Daryl to trip over. Why did he always meet her in these conditions? With clumsiness and awkwardness? Why couldn't he just...be normal? Like a normal person...whose dog wasn't a major douche.

She pointed to her car after confessing the truth, and he didn't want to put her out, but she nudged him in the rib and waved him over. She climbed inside the warmth of her car and dreaded how much water would soak into the seat before she got home. It wasn't that far away, but she had enough water soaking her clothes and hair to make a desert into an oceanic vacation spot for decades.

Daryl buckled himself in and pressed his hands against the heat spewing out of the vents. He didn't mind the cold, but it had crept into his bones, and he was over it. He wanted to be at home in warm clothes with dinner. Or coffee. Coffee sounded better.

Carol tapped his shoulder and mouthed, _Where do you live?_ She already knew, because everyone always talked about the property the city boy bought, but she didn't want to come off as creepy for knowing.

"It's not too far off, just keep goin' straight then there's a rock road. I'll... You'll see it."

She drove him home, he explained what had happened between him and his dog, and Carol was honestly thrilled she wasn't the only one with a cruddy evening. She hoped he did find Spike. It was rough to lose an animal—to death or running away and getting lose. Especially in the rain. It had to dilute the scents. Poor baby. She hoped he'd be all right, and Daryl assured her that asshole wouldn't abandoned him. He still had so many years to harass Daryl. He wouldn't miss out on that.

She playfully rolled her eyes, and soon they were at his house. She tried to see it in the dark, but that wasn't easy to do. It was almost five in the morning now, but storm had stolen any early morning sunshine. She said goodbye to him with a wave, he thanked her for her help, and he headed towards his porch. He didn't make it very far before he heard her tires spinning. He winced and remembered his truck had the same problem. He would spend hour trying to get out, but it went nowhere. It just smelled awful. No she was in the same boat.

He turned around and went back to her car, knocking on her window, but she seemed to already know. She had a message typed on her phone for him, but he didn't need to read it. "You can stay until the storm passes."

She felt guilty, but he opened the door and wouldn't take no for an answer. She couldn't even say no, because she was trapped with no cell service. He seemed nice enough to not hurt her in the night, and she wasn't totally helpless, so why not? Seriously asking herself like there was another answer. She rolled her eyes at her.

He unlocked the front door and stopped just inside, exclaiming, "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Carol saw his mouth move, but he was at an angle, so she couldn't make out what he'd said. She moved around him to see a dog chilling on his couch, butt in the air with excitement of his owner's return. Carol tried not to laugh, because Daryl looked furious, and Spike just jumped on him. He lapped the water off his face and growled joyfully at him, and Daryl just sighed and accepted his fate.

Spike spotted another person in the room and moved onto her, stepping on Daryl to reach her, and Carol bent down to pet him. Spike inhaled the scent of rain and mud and perfume on her, and he licked her face. She giggled, a sound so soft he almost didn't hear it, and Spike wagged his tail for her.

Sweet boy. Carol kissed his snout and scratched behind his ear.

"Still an asshole." Daryl closed the door and rolled over onto his knees. "I'll make some coffee. You want any?"

She nodded and stood up.

He looked over her dirty clothes and thought over what he might have for her to borrow. He had a girlfriend leave some clothes here a while back, but she was...taller than Carol. It was better than letting her drown in his clothes, and honestly he wasn't sure he had clothes for himself. He really needed to do some laundry. Among other things.

"I'll bring you something to change into." He kicked off his boots and headed upstairs to locate the duffel bag Spike found in the back of his closet. He didn't bother to shower since the mud and moss only ruined his clothes, so he tossed them into the bathroom trash and changed into sweats and a tee shirt. He grabbed the bag and a towel, heading downstairs to find Carol had removed her shoes and stayed by the door.

"Here." He handed over the bag. "There's a bathroom to the left off the kitchen."

She accepted it and headed down the hall with Spike beside her.

"Hey, you stay." Daryl went after the dog, but Spike barked at him. "Whoa, whoa."

Carol turned when Spike wasn't beside her, seeing he was barking at Daryl. She didn't know what kind of relationship they had, but clearly Spike didn't trust Daryl with her. That was worrisome.

"He thinks I'm gonna peep on you," Daryl told her, gesturing to his dog. "I was comin' after him, not you."

She reached down to pet Spike's back, and he instantly relaxed, panting happily at her touch. She continued to the bathroom, and Spike sent a growl back to Daryl before trotting after her.

"You're literally my dog!" Daryl called after him. "I'm the one who feeds you, remember that! It'll be dry food with no people food, all right? No bacon scrapes." He huffed and stomped to the kitchen to make coffee. Next time he'd just get a cat. A fat, lazy house cat. Damn.

Carol locked the bathroom door, Spike settled on the bathmat, and she smiled at him, opening the bag and finding woman's clothes inside. She was a little surprised when he handed her a duffel bag, and this was even weirder. She suspected it belonged to his current or past girlfriend, and she didn't feel comfortable wearing any of this. It all smelled clean or brand new, but this was...creepy, maybe? She only wore Michonne's clothes, not stranger's clothes, and honestly...this wasn't her taste.

Oh, wait. She spotted a long sleeved shirt in the bottom of the bag and some stretchy pajama pants. She could tell they were clean by the price tags still attached, and she peeled herself out of her wet clothes, nearly sliding on her sludgy pant leg. She gasped and hit the wall, and Spike went to her side to see if she was okay. She patted his head and changed into the clothes slowly. She wished for a hand towel to dry her hair and sat on the edge of the tub to do so.

Daryl knocked on the bathroom door after thirty minutes had passed to make sure she was all right, the door unlocked and opened, and Spike was the first out to come out. Carol stood there with frizzy hair and paler skin.

"I'll throw your clothes in the washer," he suggested. "Or you can. It's in the basement."

She nodded.

"Coffee's done, too. I made some eggs and bacon 'cause I'm starving. I don't know if you are. If not, the dog will eat it."

She lifted her hands and made a write gesture.

"I was thinkin' the same thing." He gestured behind him. "I put a notepad on the counter for you."

She exhaled with relief and offered an awkward thumbs up. She threw her clothes in to wash, finding a plate made for her with a cup of coffee and a notepad. She helped herself to a piece of bacon, and the moment she swallowed, it hit her how hungry she was. She hadn't eaten since six, and it was already six again. She crammed the food in with her fingers since he didn't leave out a fork, and she felt someone nudge her arm. She swallowed and looked over as Daryl amusingly offered her a fork. She accepted it and felt all other colors but red drain from her body.

They sat down at the table, Daryl had also brought her a spare blanket to cover herself with, and she thanked him. He ate his eggs and bacon, trying to think of something to say, and he heard pen on paper. He looked down as she wrote out a question for him. She moved her hand so he could see it.

_Whose clothes are these? Your girlfriend?_

"Yeah, she left them here, and Spike dug them up. I guess I should send them back to her." She hadn't asked for them back when they broke up. She just told him to jump up his own ass and die, because he was moving into this place and didn't feel serious enough about her to ask her to join him. In his defense, she was sleeping around with other people. Why she thought he was in the wrong, he didn't understand, but it was probably the drugs her new boyfriend got her onto that made her...lash out. He didn't bother to ask after she threw the waffle iron at him.

"Don't worry about them too much."

_Won't she be mad you let another person wear her clothes?_

"Oh, she hasn't seen that bag in two years. I don't think she's noticed." He met her eyes at her brows furrowing. "We broke up then I had her arrested..for trying to kill me with a waffle iron." And possession charges.

Her mouth fell open. _What_? She scribbled out onto the pad. _Why_?

"I... She got in with some bad people, started using pretty hard, and I... I already lost someone to that, so I just cut all ties. She went...a little nuts and tried to kill me." He wished he hadn't said anything, because Carol looked horrified. "But she's gone now. Out of my life, so don't worry about it."

_How are you not?_ _What if she comes after you?_

"She won't. She's...in prison for moving a...shitton of drugs and attempted murder of her other boyfriend." He drank his coffee and avoided eye contact.

She set the pen down, because she didn't want to know any more. She finished off her eggs and started on her coffee, exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. She knew the coffee was to warm her up, but she was becoming too tired to drink it.

Daryl stretched his fingers out to brush against her hand to get her attention. "If you're tired, I can make up the couch."

She picked up the pen and scratched out, _Please_.

He smiled. "Yeah, lemme just clear it off. I'll come get you when it's done. Don't worry about the dishes. I'll do 'em tomorrow."

_It __is__ tomorrow._

"Then later today." He stood up and left to prepare the pull out couch. Spike came with him, and Daryl knocked the cushions off, Spike claimed one of them, and Daryl pulled the bed out. He hadn't used it since he bought the couch, so it was still in the sheet set he first put on it. He checked it, and luckily it didn't smell like dog or...farts or anything. He tossed a couple more blankets on it and grabbed a pillow from his own bed and went to get Carol. "It's ready."

_Thanks._ She set the notepad down and stumbled back to the living room with him. She instantly curled up under the blankets, already cocooned in the one he'd given her previously, and he watched her pass out the moment she closed her eyes.

"All right then." Daryl tucked her one foot under the blanket and turned to Spike. "Keep an eye on her, got it?"

He jumped onto the bed and lied down beside her, resting his head on her hip.

"Good boy." He rubbed his head and went to his own room to crash. He was fucking tired. This day had been total garbage, and now it was over. Well, yesterday had been, and now it was tomorrow, and he was over life right now. He was sleeping in—no alarms, no dog waking him up, nothing. If anyone woke him up, he was going to scream. He far enough away from people to get away with it, too.

– – –

Carol woke up to a strange living room with a dog curled up on her side, and she thought her vision was messed up, because everything was shimmering and blurry, but it was just sheets of plastic hanging over the doorway to the next room. She could have cried she was so relieved. She could handle not hearing, but she loved reading and sunsets and seeing the face of people she loved. Although she could adjust and get auto books should that occur.

She swallowed and pushed herself up, inhaling deeply and looking the wide and under furnish living room before her. It wasn't even fully painted, and there were no pictures or colors or anything beyond the green couch she lied on and the TV's oak stand. It was depressing in here, to be honest, and she couldn't imagine what type of person would call this place a home. He's been living here for two years, and this was the best he could do? It was sad. She felt sorrow burrowing in her chest at the empty walls around her.

She crawled out of bed and passed the stairwell Daryl had gone up through for the night, and she stepped into what appeared to be a study. There were built-in bookshelves in the walls, natural light by the bay window, a computer and desk set up, and there were dog toys everywhere. A dog bed and bowls of fresh food and water. It was sweet to see pet owners adore their pets like this. It made her feel less sad for him to know he had such a soft spot in his life. Especially after his crazy ex. Carol still worried the bitch would hunt her down for wearing her clothes, and it wasn't like it'd be hard. She was the only deaf person in this town.

She pressed onto the kitchen, and she made a fresh pot of coffee, seeing he'd consumed quiet of a bit of it last night. There was only a couple inches left inside the pot. She wondered how nervous he was to have her there. He didn't seem like a social person. He was friendly enough at work, but he had no real friends, and she'd never seen him out on the town. He only worked, restored this house and saved whatever money he could apparently. Had he even gotten laid since he moved her? It wasn't her business, but from how little she'd seen of him, she doubted it. She couldn't imagine going that long without companionship. It was depressing. She loved being in a relationship with people, platonic and romantic. Although romantic didn't seen to be leaning in her favor lately. On second thought, he might be better off without the heartache of a relationship.

She leaned against the counter, the cool marble against her bare belly causing her to shiver, and she gazed outside the window over the sink. It showed a spacious and gorgeous backyard with a gazebo and trail for hiking. There was also a cute little shed by the trail. It was precious. She could almost imagine kids running around back there, having fun chasing each other and raising hell for their parents. She smiled and hoped the family that moved in once he was done made joyful memories here. It would be so lovely once it done, and it shouldn't go to waste. If Michonne wanted this fairy tale, Carol would let her have it. But fair and square. Carol wasn't going to help her out with it. Hell, Carol wasn't even sure Michonne could afford it. Daryl was lucky to get it cheap, but who knew how much he'd sell it for?

She'd only seen three rooms, all unfinished, and aside from the depressing lack of personal touch, it was beautiful and homey. It wouldn't take much for someone rich old couple to buy it for family gathers and ruin town for months on end, because they were "catching up with the distant relatives".

Paws smacked on the stone kitchen floor, Carol looked down as Spike came over to her and stretched his body out before sitting down and looking up at her. She rubbed his head and suspected he might want some more bacon. She didn't know if it was okay to cook anything, because she didn't know the man from Adam, so she went upstairs to see if he was okay with it. She grabbed the notepad on the way and wrote out her words, letting Spike guide her to his bedroom. They passed about five doors before coming to a small set of stairs at the end of the hall. Carol watched Spike climb them and scratch on the door, Carol waited a moment before joining him on the steps, and the bedroom door opened to Daryl standing there with only a towel around his waist.

"Oh, Christ." He moved behind his door, forgetting someone else was in his house this morning, and Spike strolled inside, jumping onto his bed and staring at him. He knew that dog was pissed at him, but this was ridiculous. He was practically naked here!

A notepad came into his view, and he read over an apology and request to make breakfast for him as a thanks for the hospitality. He rolled his eyes at himself for being fifteen instead of thirty-four, and he stepped out from behind the door.

"Sorry, you...you just started me. Uh, sure. Breakfast would be nice. I have food in the fridge and the pantry's across the hall from the bathroom you used."

She nodded, her cheeks still pink from the sight of his expose and still wet chest. She turned and headed out to make food. She smacked herself in the face with the notepad once he was back in his room, and she heaved a sigh. _Jesus, girl, it was just a chest. You literally jut saw one last night. _She hadn't expected him to have so many tattoos, but it wasn't like she really knew him. He worked out, that was for sure. Or he just got muscled by building onto the house. It couldn't be easy to lift...whatever he lifted to get that ripped. God, and the water from the shower and the way he smelled...

She padded down the stairs and tossed the notepad on the bed. She'd forgotten about last night with Rick, that was for sure. Daryl'd been so nice and so thoughtful. She wanted to make it up to him, so she'd make dinner and offer to help him with the house like Michonne suggested. She had most days off, and it'd be nice to get to know him. He seemed so lonely and socially awkward. She wanted to help him with that, too. She was no expert, but she'd be his first friend. Well, aside form Dale and Nadia. You couldn't help but be friends with them. They were so cute and sweet. This town was like their child, and its people were their grandchildren. Were it not for them, Carol might not even be alive.

She stopped by the bathroom to clean up and realized Daryl probably jumped at the horror he saw. Her was beyond repair, so she wet it in the sink and combed her fingers through it, braiding it and using a spare hair tie from her wrist. She scrubbed her face clean and retrieved her clothes from the dryer.

Only she didn't make it long enough to put them in the dryer, so they were not only still wet but smelled...off. She groaned and restarted the washer, adjusting the shirt and pants she wore to look like a suitable human being. Her boobs liked the no bra, but she was self-conscious, especially since she could see her nipples through her shirt. Hell, actually, she could almost see her breasts through this shirt. It was practically see-through in this light.

She dug through the duffel bag for a different shirt, but everything as either see-through, skimpy or leather. She groaned and prayed the washer was quick, because this wasn't how she wanted to spend her morning. She thought she'd wake up with Rick and Carl and do the whole "this is my girlfriend talk" with Carl, but no. She broke up with him, wandered through a storm with a stranger and was practically naked in his kitchen. God, if this was a joke, the punchline better be fucking epic.

She prepared eggs and bacon with toast, helping herself to the jelly and butter in his fridge, and the fresh coffee she'd made. Spike sat and watched her cook, and she shared a bite of everything with him. Not a whole lot in case Daryl was strict on his diet, but she doubted it, because she'd seen him give the puppy bacon and egg. He must be a big softie for this furry face. She certainly did.

"If you're gonna share, make him sit or roll over or give you his paw." He strolled into the kitchen and grabbed a cup of coffee. He felt better now in clean clothes and a good night's sleep. It was like three in the afternoon, but who was checking? "Make him work for it."

Spike huffed at his owner.

_I'll remember that for next time_, she thought to herself. She straightened up and cleared her throat, gesturing to the plates.

"Looks good." He carried the plates over for her and sat down.

Carol joined him with the notepad and asked him how he slept.

"Like a rock." He sheepishly smiled at her. "And you?"

_Same. Your dog kept me great company._ She crossed her legs as she wrote this out, and she lifted her eyes.

"Yeah, he's good like that. Sometimes." He ate some eggs and glared at Spike, who had jumped into the chair across from Daryl and panted at them.

_He's a good boy. He's one of Michonne's, isn't he? I remember her giving one to a new guy. You're the guy, right? _

"Yeah. I was just finding my way around town, and she brought this puppy over to me. We spoke for about twenty minutes then she asked me if I wanted the puppy. I didn't see a reason to say no, so I adopted young Spike here." He chuckled to himself. "It's been a trip, let me tell you. Raising a dog is like raising a child, only more destructive, I think."

_You have kids?_

"Not me personally, but I am an uncle."

_How exciting. Tell me about your niece or nephew._ She dipped the corner of her toast into the runny yolk of her egg, listening to his story.

"It's a boy. He's a boy, Peter. He's only ten, but he's great. He reminds me of his dad so much it hurts. He's a...semi-good kid. He has his moments, but overrall he's good. He's pretty smart, too, and he has a lot of friends. He's such a social kid. He's on any team he can join, and he's a great student. A great kid. I mean, I wouldn't leave him at a gas station by accident."

Carol laughed and picked up the pen, asking: _Is he from your sister or brother?_

"His dad is my brother." He gulped and offered a tight smile. "Um, did you see if you can get out? Of the driveway?"

_I hadn't tried yet. My clothes are still wet, so I had to redo them. I'll check as soon as they're done. Sorry to impose._

"No! No, that wasn't why I asked. I was just curious." He was trying to change the subject. "Take your time."

She pressed her lips together. _Why don't you have any friends in town? Aside from Dale and Nadia, who don't count, because everyone is friends with them._

He paused and set his fork down, sighing and leaning back in his seat. "I dunno. Guess I just ain't the friends type."

_Everyone is._ She then scratched those words out. _Most people are._

"Well, most people aren't as chatty as you are." He caught her trying to repress a smile and grinned. "I just don't have time. Honestly, I flip my schedule so often based on my moods and Dale's availability. So, sometimes I work my nights at the store, and in the mornings I'm here working on the house. Or vice versa. I have my dog, so I don't lack interaction."

_That's really sad, Daryl_. After writing it out reached over and set her hand on his, using her other hand to put over her heart.

"You want to be my friend?" he assumed, and she nodded. "Why? I told him; I'm fine. I'm just fixing this place up and moving on with my life. It's what I do." He shook her hand off and moved away to get a refill of coffee.

She followed with the notebook and showed it to him. _It doesn't have to be. You can have friends, and we'll help fix this place up. Let me help you. I want to. We'll get this place on the market, and you'll want to stay, because this town is great. You'll see. I'll help you see. Let me help._

"You want to help me?" He scoffed. "Carol, that's stupid."

She frowned and lowered the notebook.

"If I were to stay, I wouldn't put the house on the market. I worked too damn hard on it. I'd just keep it."

The sorrow left her eyes and laughter swirled there as she swatted him with the notepad.

"You really want to help me?" She nodded. "I guess it couldn't hurt. I've spent two years trying to do it myself, and all I managed was that study and this kitchen. That sun room is killing me. What the hell is a sun room?"

She grinned and wrote on the pad. _You won't regret this._

"Well," he set his coffee down and held his hand out, "partners?"

She accepted his hand and nodded.

Daryl looked over her shoulder to see Spike had eaten everything off her plate and moved to his. He really needed to train him better with table manners, because this reflected poorly on Daryl at this point. Daryl had his own actions reflect poorly on him. He really didn't need help with that.

"Spike!"


	4. Stained

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

"Where have you been?" Michonne demanded when Carol walked into work the following Monday. "I've been worried sick about you. You weren't at home. Rick said you broke up. I—Why didn't you call me? I would have been there in an instant."

_I'm really fine, Michonne_. She moved around to the register to clock in. _I had to sort some things out with a little wine on Sunday, but I'm over it. We were barely together a month._

"Carol, you were dating Rick and didn't tell me. He had to come find me and ask how you were. You kept me out of the loop with Rick and the breakup. I'm worried. I called you like fifteen times this weekend, and nothing."

_I know, and we will talk later. For now, I need to...focus on work. _She stepped into the back to put her belongings away and pulled her hair up into a bun.

The work day was slow, Carol was thinking about what color would best suit the study Daryl had crafted, and Michonne eyed her the entire day. Carol knew she'd have to tell her about Daryl and the house, but she didn't want to get into it right now. It was like a hobby, and Michonne never told Carol about her hobbies, so it' be fine. She'd just tell her about Sunday, when she got home and experienced the break up. She sat in bed and drank a bottle of wine before taking a very long bath and wishing she had Daryl's dog with her, because he was sweetie. Aside from stealing any food she made, that was.

Daryl was an interesting guy, thinking of. He was very thoughtful and funny, too. He had so many ideas for the house, and it broke her heart, because all he did was talk about selling it off and moving back to the city. She understood his brother and nephew were there, but there were so many great things about their town. She wanted to show him all the wonders she knew of, and she was going to start tomorrow after work. He was going to get an eyeful. She just had to be sure to bring something to write on. Her phone wasn't ideal, because it died all the time. It hadn't been updated since 2016. Michonne had begged her to get a new phone for the chat feature, but Carol just needed a text capable phone. People still called her though, and she didn't know what they expected. Aside from horror-film breathing

Michonne and Carol closed the store down, Michonne hadn't spoken to her since lunch and Carol explained her pitiful Sunday, and they both knew Carol had left details out. Michonne didn't mind Carol having secrets or a life outside their friendship, but she was worrying Michonne with how causal she was over this break up. Rick had pursued her for a year, and a month in it's over, and she's fine. They couldn't be the whole story. What the hell happened? Did he cheat? Did he...suck in a relationship? It was killing her to not know, but she had no right to really ask either. Maybe later, but for now, she'd let it rest. Maybe.

"You have any dinner plans?" Michonne flicked the lights off and pulled the door shut behind them, locking it.

_Yes. I made a meatloaf on Sunday, and I intend to actually eat it. Have a good night. Kiss Andre for me._ She smiled and waved goodbye, heading to her car.

"Carol." She sighed softly. "Be careful."

Carol drove home and slipped into her comfort zone. She changed into shorts and a tank top, digging the her fuzzy cardigan out of her blankets on the way. She padded down the stairs to the kitchen and pre-heated the oven for meatloaf, and she poured herself a glass of wine. She as so glad to be home and in comfort, because she wanted to think seriously on renovating Daryl's house. He said he'd help her with the basics, and she was mostly in charge of painting and finding any decent furnishings. He did need her help with the sun room, because he was drawing a blank on it. She hadn't seen it yet to give an opinion, but she would this weekend. For sure.

She looked over her cottage and wondered if it was time to renovation this place. It was her first place all to herself, and she loved it, but she would eventually outgrow it. She felt like that was a full of lie, though. She was self-sufficient out here with a garden and well water and solar power. It was a gem in the woods, just like Daryl's house, but she'd made it home.

It was small cottage obviously made for one. It was painted a faded navy blue, a glass-railed porch over the garage, vines growing partly over the side poor where Carol had set up a table and a couple of chairs for outdoor reading and lunch purposes. The inside was mostly a tall ceiling, and everything as in the same room. The kitchen made up half of the living room, and Carol had erased the dining room years ago when there just wasn't enough space. She loved her big blue couch too much to trade it in for loveseat or couple of armchairs. It was a gift from her best friend, and it was staying.

About ten feet from the couch was the door that lead to the bathroom, and above that with the spiraled staircase was her bedroom. It was in its on little cubby hole with windows lining the wall, which wasn't always a win, but she was used to it. She had blackout curtains cropped and fitted, too, if she wanted a nap in the daytime. Outside the hole where her bed were her dressers and a clothes line for delicate to dry. She also had a washer and dryer in the garage. It was small but perfect for one person. Or a couple, but literally not one person more. It'd be a nightmare. Hell, trying to have sex in her bed was a nightmare. There was a ceiling light right above the bed, and a couple guys have really hurt themselves trying to top. She warned them, but no one listened. They sure as hell bottomed every time they were over at her cottage.

She set the wine glass down and felt hollowed. Rick was her longest relationship in a year, and that was depressing. She didn't love him or really see a future with him, but he was cute and nice and wanted to be with her enough to wait a year. He just underestimated the strength of his past relationship. She couldn't blame him. She'd been there, but it didn't make this any better. She loved Carl. He was such a sweet boy, and they were friends, but probably not anymore. She'd already gotten chewed out by Lori on having Carl walked in on them once. It wasn't her fault he was thirsty, and Carol had gotten off early.

She chuckled at that wording and sat down on the arm of the couch. She missed being touched, and it wasn't about sex or kissing. She liked to be held, to be snuggled, and Rick apparently had been slipping out after sex, so she definitely hadn't been held in a long time. Who did she have to pay to snuggle her? Hmmm, maybe she could borrow Spike for a night and just cuddle him instead. She did love dogs, and he was a sweetie. For the most part.

She leaned back to fall onto the couch and looked up through the skylight, seeing the stairs and the light of moon. She stacked her hands on her stomach and smiled at the shine of the stars. Another reason she loved this cottage. She may have broken her wallet all those years to buy it, but it was worth it. Something as hidden and quiet as her. A match. Perhaps her only match.

She shook her head and decided to cheer herself up. She had food and wine, and it was barely eight. She was going to have a good night. She didn't have to work tomorrow, and she could focus on hanging out with Daryl. She would have new friend, and this one even had a dog. A young dog, no sad memories just yet. So, yeah, it'd be fine.

If not, she'd get drunk and cuddle her own damn self.

––

Carol met Daryl at his house the next morning, Daryl was still drowsy and waking up, so she and Spike checked out the sun room. She was breathless at the beauty shining down into the room from the stained glass he'd picked out. It was so gorgeous, and it filled the room in soft lighting. It was natural light, and it felt like home instantly. She couldn't believe he'd done this by himself and didn't think it was amazing. She could barely construct a kennel for display. Wow.

Daryl stumbled to the room and stood beside her, seeing the awe in her expression, and he inhaled before turning to stand in front of her. "Do you like it?"

She nodded vigorously.

"Then once it's done, buy it from me." He chuckled at the glare she sent him, and he downed the rest of his coffee. "I have flooring to do today, so why don't you try out those paints?"

She held up a notepad with pre-written questions. _Do you really not care what I paint it?_

"As long as it'll sell this place, nope."

_You're infuriating._

"But you already knew that beforehand, so...who's really infuriating?" He stepped out of the room to put more coffee in his mug.

She closed the notepad and looked down at Spike somberly. _No winning, eh?_

He nudged her thigh with his head.

She kissed his head and collected the paints by the door. There were four colors, and they were so different but all the same type of lightness. They were all lovely, and Carol reached for the paintbrushes and rollers, choosing to the grey green color. It would be great for reading and catching the light; it have such a warm feeling to it. It'd be perfect since it was a reading room/study. She could almost see Daryl at the computer, reading some book or the other with Spike lying in the bay window, watching the wildlife traipse by. She loved the image of it and was deadset on making this place one hundred perfect Daryl. He'd love it so much he wouldn't leave it.

She cracked open the can of paint and mixed it thoroughly to be sure of the color. Maybe Daryl would love it and keep it but still move. That would be okay. He would be back to visit, and this place would have a purpose again. She'd been here long enough to know this place was beautiful and a great location for vacations but it was empty. It was buried in the woods, and nobody seemed to wait it. It was a shame. It was such a treasure. She would love to live here herself, but she owned a cottage, and she loved it too much to part with it. She'd probably live there alone or get a dog or something. Honestly, she'd considered getting a dog just to not be alone, but it'd be mean. Her place was too small for a dog. Maybe a cat. There was plenty of room to climb.

"Good choice."

Carol jolted at the feel of breath on her shoulder, and she turned to glare at him.

"Sorry." He held his hands up. "I didn't mean to scare you. I—I kinda forget you don't... I'm real sorry. I'll...er, tap your shoulder next time."

She shook her head to say it's fine and set a hand on the desk. _You like it?_ She mouthed.

He nodded. "It's a good color." He pointed to the kitchen. "There's some snacks in there if you get hungry. But uh, before you get started on that, do you want a tour? See the place you're gonna help me fix up?"

She nodded.

He walked her through the living room to the dining room. It was just passed the bathroom and pantry, and it was an unfinished mess, but he planned to add wood paneling, a fresh coat of paint, and he mentioned a new type of lightening beyond the massive window he had tapped over. Carol didn't know what exactly wood paneling was, but he made it sound lovely. She could almost see it the finish product, and he asked her to pick out a some simple rugs and pictures to hang up in here to fill space for the open house he'd have once it was done. She didn't find that too lovely, but she just decided to grin and nod.

He pointed out te basement door beside the pantry's double doors, and they continued on to the upstairs. Daryl wasn't a basement person, so he wasn't going to do anything with it. Whoever the owners were could live it up with colors and add walls to make a spare room. He didn't know or care. It was just an empty space. He'd leave it that way.

He grasped her wrist at the top of the stairs to show her each of the rooms up there without having to try and get her attention. He could just guide her into the rooms, and Carol followed him into the first bedroom. It was huge for a bedroom, and it was lit up with sunlight from the windows, and the closet was a walk-in. It wasn't even the master bedroom. It was just a bedroom, and Carol wondered just how much he spent on this house now. And how much he had saved up.

The other two bedrooms weren't as spacious but very lit up. They were already done, according to Daryl. They just needed to be painted, and he was considering putting carpet down in one of the bedrooms, but he wasn't positive. He asked her her opinion unthinkingly, and she turned his hand over to write out:_ If you like it, do it_. Her soft fingertip tickled against his palm, and his fingers closed around hers on the last line of T. She looked up at him to see if she'd upset him, because he was unsure already and this wasn't helping, but he didn't look annoyed or anything.

"I'll think about it." He dropped his hand from hers and stepped out of the room. "That door is just a bathroom, and the two I didn't show you are closets."

She looked into the bathroom and wanted to strip naked and jump into the bathtub. It was huge and took up an entire corner of the room, and there was even a separate shower on the other wall, and there were two toilets. It was all painted a light blue, almost purple, and it felt so relaxing. This had to be bathroom goals, because she wanted to move into this one room right here and never leave.

"I forgot I already did this room." He sat down on the edge of the tub. "I got a discount on this stuff, but it wasn't anywhere cheap."

She moved in front of him and grasped his hand, asking: _Why sell?_

"I know it seems...like I put a lot of effort into this house, and yeah, I have, but this ain't a final stop for me." He shrugged a shoulder. "You know what I mean? It just can't be."

_Can't be?_ She cocked her head to the side.

He chewed on his bottom lip and stood up, shaking his head and facing her. "C'mon, got one more room to show you."

She reached out to touch him, but he slipped out of reach and headed down the hall. She let her hand fall, her chest aching at the pain she'd seen in his eyes, and she went after him. She caught him entering the room at the end of the hall and stumbled into the room, not expecting the floor to drop. He grasped her arm carefully to balance her, and she looked around, instantly loving this room best of all.

It was wide, likely the length of the kitchen to the dining room with dark green walls, trees etched into the paint to mirror a forest, and the ceiling was made entire of glass to see the sky overhead, just like her cottage. It flooded the room with natural light, but the glass seemed to reduce how much light came through, because it didn't hurt her eyes to look around or look up, and it was amazing.

He had a couch and armchair to the left of the room with a TV and another set of food and water bowls for Spike. There was a closet a few feet from the loveseat and across form it was a desk littered with plans for the house, all written in his handwriting, she assumed. One leg of the chair to the desk was chewed on from Spike, and it seemed to give the room more charm. It felt lived in, and Carol could feel Daryl in this room more than any other.

Daryl dropped down onto his bed. "This is my room. Well, for now. I still have to fix it up, too, for when I leave."

She lowered her eyes and folded her arms over her stomach, nodding as a reply.

"We should get back to work." He hopped up. "I'll procrastinate all day if I we don't."

They headed downstairs, Daryl reminded her again of the snacks and drinks in the kitchen, and she stepped back into the study. She looked over at him, and he could see something was wrong with how she was acting, but he didn't know her well enough to know how to make it better. He decided to let time handle it. He really did need to get to work, and it wasn't bothering her enough to say something, so he'd leave her to it.

"I'll be listening to music, so I won't hear you. If you need me, come and get me."

She nodded.

"Spike, go outside and play." He ruffled his hair. "You don't wanna be around all these noises and smells."

He barked and bolted out through the open back door, jumping out into the soft grass of the fenced in back yard.

He pushed an earbud into his ear and recalled that she wore a pair the first time they met and pulled it back out. "Why were you wearing earbuds? The day you fell into the mud? You can't hear, so...and if you don't mind me askin'. I'm not trying to be rude."

She picked up the notepad and wrote out the reply, handing it over. _To look normal. People ask less questions from me if I have them in. I forget I'm considered disabled, but other people don't. It's all they see sometimes. _She dropped her eyes and hugged her arms.

He grasped the pen from her hand and wrote his own note on the page, handing it back and stepping into the next room to collect his equipment.

Carol found his handwriting on the page, and her eyes burned. She smiled and held the notepad to her chest, turning back with even more determination to make this place a home for him. He seemed like someone who traveled a lot, because they never truly had a place to rest their head, so she would make this place home. For him and for Spike.

She set the notepad down and dipped a brush in paint, getting to work on outline the wall as he'd kindly taped the edges of the shelves and the crown molding. Her eyes fell once more to the notepad, and she realized how happy those words made her. She would have to remember that for the next time anyone made her feel less than what she was.

They worked diligently for hours in their individual rooms, Carol saw Daryl walk through her room more than once, and he always came back with food or water. She was positive he was checking in on her work, but he didn't say anything. He just walked in and out every hour or hour and a half, and Carol decided to check on his work, but he stopped her. He mentioned there were loose nails or something, and she narrowed her eyes at him. He offered her a bagel break, and her stomach must have growled, because he got this cocky look on his face when he said it. She felt it growl, but she hoped he hadn't heard anything.

They sat on the back porch with freshly toasted bagels, two cups of water and Daryl had a side of beer with his water. Carol chastised him for drinking while on the job, and he shrugged a shoulder, tossing the rest of it back. He leaned back against the house and watched eat her bagel, looking out at Spike who was rolling around the warm dirt. He watched her lips curve upward, and he noticed then her freckles were back. They had spread further than her cheeks and nose, kissing along her collarbone and her jawline, and they stood defiant against her pale skin. He could see that soft beauty once more, and he wondered if she even knew.

She was so self-conscious. He'd noticed it in small ways, and he didn't understand how she could possibly be so uneasy in her skin. It wasn't only that she was beautiful, she was also a great person. He'd seen her with customers and with other people, and she was so thoughtful and thorough. She was amazing, and Spike didn't really like other people, but he adored her. It'd only been a couple times meeting her, and he adored her. It had to be that aura she gave off, and he couldn't describe it, but he found himself being drawn to it—to her. He felt like he could tell her anything—tell her everything—and not only would she listen, she'd understand. She would take his burdens and help him carry them. He felt if he contacted her in the middle of the night, if she was able, she would come and sit with him on this porch until he felt better about whatever the problem was, and he'd never known this before. God, he barely knew this... He barely knew her, and he was already dreading moving.

Carol was looking at him now, brows knit and asking him what was wrong on the notepad.

"Nothin', just zoned out." He inhaled sharply like he'd been yanked out of deep thought. "You like the bagel?"

She nodded and set her plate on top of his, resting her hands over her stomach. But only for a moment then she was reaching for the notepad. She began writing, and he wondered what was so important, because she filled out half the page. She handed the notepad over and stood up to play with Spike.

He sat up and read over her words.

_When I was a little girl, I used to play in a yard just like this. I didn't have a lot of friends, but I had my family and my imagination. I had so much fun just playing, and I can imagine whoever settles here will have so much fun playing here with their kids or their dog or whoever. I can see them loving all of your hard work, and I can see the laughter and future here. I wish you could see that, too. I don't know you very well, but I do read people with about 75% accuracy, so if I'm right then...you've never had a home like that. A childhood like that, and I want you to know you can still have that kind of home. You and someone you love—a human, you love. You can build that here or there or wherever you call home, but you can have to try and settle yourself. And I don't mean make excuses or adjust to someone else's standards; I mean to find a center and be still. To let roots grow. You can't know how much that helps with any pain, and I'm here for you, no matter what comes, okay? Just learn to look for rainbows while you're trudging through mud for that dog._

He looked up at her playing with Spike and set the notepad down, inhaling and pulling his legs up to rest his elbows there. He smirked to himself and closed his eyes to enjoy the warm weather of spring.

– – –

"Hey, girlie." Michonne grinned at Carol. "Guess what I have?"

_A man?_ Carol mused, and Michonne smacked her ass on her way to clock in. _What do you have then_?

"A vacation day for you, me and Andre. It's set for tomorrow." She studied her face for excitement but saw none. "We're going to the park. The new theme park. Is that ringing any bells?"

_Yes, but why now? I thought we planned to do it in July, not June. It's kind of sudden, you know?_

"Well, we've been working hard the last couple of weeks, and it's been two weeks since Rick and you broke up. I want to do something for that. You've taken it like a champ, and Andre misses you. You have no available weekends, so I'm using Thursday instead."

_And if I were to have plans tomorrow? _She leaned against the counter. _What then, Mich?_

"You can't be serious?"

She slowly grinned._ I'm not. This is so great. I've been wanting to spend time with you both. _She hugged her. And she loved themed parks. She hoped it was decent and not a let down. She needed something to cheer her up after Daryl repeatedly cancelling their renovations plans. She'd even shown up twice, and he either turned her away or didn't answer when his truck was right outside. Spike even came to the door to see her, but not Daryl. It wasn't like she could shout and get him downstairs. So much for making friends. On either side.

"Hey, could you run to the general store and get some lemonade?" Michonne broke through her thoughts. "Dale should be there to refresh it about now, so please?"

_I can man the store while you're gone, _Carol signed._ I've done it before._

"Yes, and I know you can do it, but...um, I'm expecting a work-related phone call, and you can't do that for me. You don't even know what it's for."

She nodded._ I'll be back then._

"Thank you." She dug the cash out of her pocket. "Help yourself to one, too, if you want. Or anything else you can afford with the leftover changes."

She tossed a thumbs up over her shoulder and headed over to the general store, eager to see how Dale was doing. She also needed an opinion on her new dress. The boots were pretty much on her feet at all times, because all of her summer shoes had to be dug out from the back of her closet. It wasn't time yet, but tomorrow would be, and she needed to know if this dress would work with them. She loved it. It was so soft and comfortable and the light blue was pretty, especially with her skin. She'd already sent Michonne a picture before, but she didn't give a great answer. She was busy with something, so Nadia or Dale would have to do. They were like her parents, so they'd be honest. Or at least make her feel better about herself today.

She entered and saw the "In The Back" sign on the counter. She smiled at Dale's homemade sign and continued on to prepare to cups of lemonade. She could almost feel Dale coming to the front, a tingle of an another being's energy tingled across her skin, and she went to greet him since it'd be a couple days since she last saw him. She ran smack into someone's chest instead. She blushed and stumbled away, apologizing frantically until she saw it was only Daryl. She gulped and dropped her hand.

"Don't you look beautiful." Dale smiled at the sight of Carol. "Doesn't she look beautiful?"

Daryl glanced back at Dale and nodded to appease the man. "You buyin' those?" He nodded his chin to the drinks made on the counter.

_Yes._ She signed for Dale, hoping he'd come and ring her up instead of Daryl. _How are you doing today, Dale?_

"I'm lovely." He greeted her with a hug. "And you?"

_A little shaken from the bump in, but I'm okay now._ She grabbed the drinks and walked with him to the counter, but Daryl was already there, ringing up her total. She set the cups down and reached into her purse to pull out Michonne's money to pay.

"Here you are." He handed her the change. "Sorry about before. It was my bad, not yours, so don't feel bad."

She tucked the change into the side pocket of her purse and started to pick up the drinks when she realized what he just said. She raised her eyes and lifted her hands, a tremble coursing through them as she signed:_ What...did you just say?_

_That you didn't need to apologize. It was my fault,_ he signed back and watched tears form in her eyes. _I've been working with Dale to learn how to sign, because we'll kill trees at this rate. I didn't tell you and cancelled our plans to learn. I wanted it to be a surprise. So...surprise. Maybe we can start over from here?_

She covered her mouth with her hand.

"He's a quick study, but there are things he doesn't know. You'll have to cut him some slack. We're still learning," Dale signed.

She couldn't stop the tears from coming, and Daryl didn't feel like this was a good sign. He walked around the counter and caught her hands, and she pulled them free to hug him, to thank him. She couldn't believe he'd been trying to learn how to talk to her all this time. He'd taken time out of his life to learn how to speak to her, and she'd been awful about the entire situation between them. She felt horrible for her thoughts on him, but he made her feel less horrible and more lucky and happy. She had friends who ditched her when she lost her hearing, and now she'd made a friend who learned just to be better friends with her. God, that was so amazing of him. And of Dale for teaching him.

He rubbed her back and wanted to assure her it was okay, but she wouldn't let go of him. He held her closer and moved the hair from her back, writing out It's OK on her upper back as she had done on his hands, and she shuddered in his arms. She did begin to calm, so he once more traced it onto her shoulder, and Dale wasn't sure what was going on, but he let them have their moment. If they somehow wound up getting married, he'd have one hell of a story to tell customers.

Carol let go of him and kissed his cheek. _Thank you for this amazing surprise_. She snuffled and smiled around the emotions in her eyes.

"Well, you did offer to help me fix up my house, so I figured I might as well speak your language. I read better than I...speak, I guess. I'll keep talkin' to you."

_I'd love that. _She wiped under her eye and exhaled deeply, her heart swelling with bliss.

"Hey, do you have plans for tomorrow? We could go that new furniture store and pick out some things forh the sun room."

_Oh, I do have plans for tomorrow. I'm sorry._

"Don't be sorry. You can have a life. I'm not gonna try and stop that, just...lemme know when you're free."

_I will_. She hugged him once more then Dale to think him, and she departed to deliver Michonne's drink before the ice melted and ruined the flavor.

"You know, flirting in my day involved a lot less crying," Dale jested. "Or avoidance."

"I didn't want to see her and blurt it out," he confessed with a blush on his cheeks, glad to have his back to Dale still. "I can't keep a surprise in to save my life."

"Can't hide your feelings to save your life either. It's only been three weeks. Calm down, son." He smirked at Daryl when he sliced a glower his way. "I'm just saying what I'm seeing."

"It's been three weeks. Calm down." Daryl aped him. "She's not even a friend. I did this to learn how to be her friend. And you know me by now. I get the crazy chicks. Me and woman like Carol don't work."

"Don't be so sold on that idea."

"If we were to happen, we'd probably fuck once and that's it."

Dale frowned at him. "Watch your mouth, son, and you don't know that."

"But I know me. I know my past and my future. She rooted here. I'm looking for any way out of here, so don't tell me we have a chance, Dale. It's depressing." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "And don't let her see you talking about this. I don't want her to get the wrong idea."

"That you like her?"

"Dale, please."

"I'm out of it, but I'm disappointed. I won't be quiet about that."

"Well, thanks, but I have that covered. I'm a huge disappointment to myself already, so," he murmured the end to himself, and he heaved a sigh.

"You have a counter to man. I'm going to the park with Nadia. If you need a hand, let me know." He patted his back on the way out, and Daryl shuddered at the contact. "Take care."

"Yeah." Daryl shuffled his feet and chewed on his bottom lip. He could take himself out of his hometown and out of the city where he lost his brother, but they were still with him. They shaped him, and he couldn't break that mold. He'd tried, and all he earned was loss. So no, he wouldn't get the girl and have the happy ending. He would just have to settle for an ending.

––

"Hey, are you all right?" Michonne met Carol by the door and took the drinks, setting them on a display. "What happened? You've been crying."

_Daryl... He learned how to sign, so we could talk to me._ She could only offer a trembling smile and watery eyes._ I thought he was avoiding me, because I did something wrong. But no. No, he was learning how to talk to me._

"That's incredible, Carol, but...you've only met the man once. How could he be offended by you?"

She snuffled. _Well, I took up your advise and am helping him renovate that house. We've been talking on and off for a few weeks now._

"What?" Michonne was taken aback, physically moving back from Carol. "Since when do you ever listen to me?"

_I wanted to help him. I ran into him again the night Rick and I broke up, and his dog had run away. I tried to help him find Spike, and we kinda hit it off. Like...in a friendly way. I'm not looking for another relationship, and he's deadset on moving, so it'd be pointless. _She picked up her drink and walked over to the counter.

Michonne ignored her own drink and went after Carol. "Does that mean you've thought about it? A relationship with him?"

_No._ She tucked hair behind her ear and saw disbelief in those onyx orbs. _Come on, you know me. I don't date. I've barely been with a man for more than a couple weeks. I'm not going through it again. I'd rather...just makes friends. I can do that at least._

"Hey, Rick wasn't ready. That doesn't reflect on you at all, honey." She set a hand on her shoulder. "You'll find a great guy. I know it."

_In this town? It's more likely to rain frogs, Michonne. _She sipped on her drink and found it a bit tart today. It was nice, still, very refreshing. She wasn't a huge lemonade fan, but she could always make room for Nadia's.

"So, what...you're just done dating? You're set to die alone in that cottage?" She searched her eyes and saw truly how much Rick had hurt her. It wasn't simply the break up or him not being ready; it as knowing that she as good to use for rebound and uncertainly. It wasn't true. Michonne had spoken to Rick, and he did really like her. He wanted it to work, but he wanted it so much he cancelled out the feelings he still has for his wife. Or at least the feelings towards how their relationship ended. He's still carrying it around, and it's baggage on any new relationship he gets into. Michonne could understand that with her ex, so she talked to him about it, and it was nothing on Carol. If she could make her see that...

_Maybe I'll get a dog._ She shrugged a shoulder._ It's not like I'm a prize, Michonne. I'm thirty-four. I live in the woods alone. I work pargt time in a pet store. I...I've never been a serious relationship, and that doesn't include...what happened when we were kids._

"That doesn't make you less of a person. It makes him garbage."

_I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's focus on work and then the park, please. _She shivered and moved over to check today's truck. She was jolted when arms wrapped around her from behind, and Michonne rested her chin on her shoulder. She tried not to let her eyes burn, but she couldn't help it. She knew Rick and she broke up due to his issues, not hers, but it was just another failed relationship. She was tired of it, and she was tempted to just stop trying, because the dating pool around here had been exhausted long ago. Everyone was either married, her ex, gay or they just weren't interested in staying in town for long. This place was a rest and recovery type of town, yet she hadn't recovered from anything yet.

Michonne heard the bell ring to indicate their truck was here, and she handed Carol a tissue. _I'll handle the truck, watch the front. Ring if you need me._

_Okay._ She accepted the tissue and dried her eyes, trashing the tissue when a longtime customer entered the store and smiled a welcome at her. _Hello._

"You look sad today." Hershel walked over to her. "Is everything okay?"

_Not really._ She hugged herself tightly.

"Well, come and have lunch with me today. I could use the company of a beautiful lady." He patted the counter and headed to the aisle he needed.

Carol sank down into the chair behind the counter and buried her face in her hands with a soft moan. She was glad to see Hershel and to be able to have lunch with him, but he couldn't understand. He had his wife and two daughters and a son. He had his life figured out. He couldn't understand what she was going through. He had two wives who loved him more than anything, and Carol couldn't even get to a two month anniversary. Her longest relationship was with Michonne and Andre. And her vibrator. Although at this rate, she might want to replace it.

Her shift until lunch dragged, and she tried not to feel miserable, but there was so much more to life outside of needing or wanting a relationship. She knew that and experienced deep friendships and found a love of the woods and the peace in silence, but she knew them all well. She looked for more ways to fill this ever-growing void, but it was difficult. She wanted more from life than just watching people fall in love and finding happiness together or watching her best friend's son grow up. She wanted children of her own, and it was devastating to think she'd finally found someone who turned out to be another dud. She already thought little of herself, and this wasn't helping. She liked to think she was a good person, a good friend to have around and a great girlfriend, but maybe she wasn't. Maybe the problem was her. It wouldn't be the first time.

Michonne tried her best to cheer Carol up, but it didn't work. She'd been beside Carol through so many break ups, and this was just the one that broke hope. Rick was honestly a great guy, and he and Carol were great friends, and Michonne could see why they wanted to try dating, because they worked well together. Rick wasn't in the mind for it, and Carol honestly wasn't the type of woman he needed. He needed someone to be stern with him, to force him to face the issues he had with his ex and overcome them, and that woman needed to be a friend. Carol had stepped over that line a long time ago, and if Michonne had known Rick was her mystery man, she would have let her know this. It wouldn't prevent the fall out, but maybe the fall could have been lighter.

Hershel waited for Carol outside the pet store in some chair Carol and Michonne put out to air one day and forgot to bring back in. They bought new ones the next week, and Michonne stepped out back for air and found the old ones. They weren't in great shape anyway, so it was a good call, even if it was hilariously embarrassing.

Hershel handed Carol her lunch, and she thanked him, unwrapping one of Annette's yummy subs. She picked up a half and bit into it, and Hershel removed his prosthetic leg, letting the breeze whisk over him. He leaned back in the chair and looked over at Carol, who was intentionally focused on chewing so he wouldn't start a conversation. If she was staring at the bread, she couldn't read his lips. He knew her tricks. She was just like his youngest. Beth would avoid embarrassing conversation by staring at the floor on her way through the house. He was impressed she was good enough now to not smack into walls. It wasn't a proud impressed, however.

He tapped on her knee, and she swallowed hard, lifting her eyes slowly. "He isn't worth it, you know."

She set the half-eaten sub down and wiped her hands on a napkin before signing, _I think I'm the one who isn't worth it. It has nothing to do with any one guy. It's all of them._

"Oh? All of them? That is a lot. How many were good?" He studied her face as it contorted with uncertainty. "I can't claim to know your track record, but a few of those boys weren't good enough for you. That tall guy who stood you up on your birthday? He wasn't a good person to begin with. He used to steal eggs from the general store. _Eggs._"

She couldn't help but laugh.

"And that guy with the dreads? He had control issues. I wanted to let Michonne find you two down my horse trail to lay into him. I'm sure once he worked through those issues, he'd a good man, but you did not meet him at a good time. Just like Rick."

Her smile dropped, and she picked at the grains on the sub.

"I know dating in a small town can be hard. Everyone knows everyone, and you avoid a lot of potential partners, because of who they "used to be". You shouldn't be so quick to throw in the towel. You just haven't found the right person. I'm sure you will when the time is right."

_And when will that? I've been dating since I was fifteen, and the longest relationship I've had was six months. Mostly because I was in the hospital for two of those months. I think it's time I stop trying. I have other things I can focus on._

"There are, but it's not wrong to want a relationship, to have someone to love for the rest of your life. You can focus on friends and hobbies, but keep your mind open. You don't know when God's plan comes together."

_I think God forgot about me a long time ago._

"Maybe you forgot about Him a long time ago." He set a hand on her knee. "He's always with you, Carol. Even though it doesn't seem like it. You have lived through so much to make you exactly the person that you are right now, and that person is worthy of love and of happiness. You have to believe that. Love doesn't have an expiration date, honey."

_Hope does. Trying does. I don't want to be let down again. My life has been one huge screw up after another, and I finally have control over my body and how I lead my life, and it's the same. I'm in the same crappy place as I've always been, only now the people around me aren't shit, too. God doesn't have a plan for me, Hershel. If he did...it isn't a good one._

"You can believe that all you want, but I know it isn't true. Michonne knows that isn't true. Everyone who has ever met you know that's just a voice in the back of your head trying to protect you from everything that's happened or might happen. You have to be brave if you want to find love and true peace with your past and your future."

_Brave? Are you serious, Hershel? What do you think I am now? A coward? After all I've been through? All I've lost? _She wrapped the sandwich up to leave, and he set his hand on her wrist. She glared at him until he spoke.

"You're hiding, Carol. That voice is making you bury all the darkness of your past and all the hope of your future. It's not making armor; it's creating distance. You have to know that you are incredible brave, but not right now. You've been shielding more and more of yourself away after every heartbreak and disappointment. How can you hope to find love or learn to love yourself if you're hiding away?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes to try and hide the tears building there._ My lunch is probably over. I should go back in._

"All right." He placed his prosthetic back on, adjusting it and rising from the chair. _Have a good day, Carol. You deserve it._

She covered her face with her hands and tried not to cry. She was so annoyed with crying. She was a grown woman, and it would be fine. She still had a chance to not be alone. She could always have a child. She did want kids, and even though it wasn't the way she wanted, she could still do that. She knew plenty of guys around here who would make decent sperm donors. Maybe she could talk to Shawn about it. Hershel would freak out, but they did talk about it once. One of their many what if games and hypothetical. He would be the best one to ask. They were friends, and she knew his family history like the back of her hand now through Hershel, so maybe an Irish baby was in her future. She already had reddish hair to donate to the kid.

She dropped her hands and felt something slimy on her knee. She lifted the sandwich and almost started to cry-laugh at the stain spreading across her knee. It was the dressing Annette made for the sandwich. She hadn't been paying attention when she rolled it up, and she'd made the perfectly funnel for it. So much for every wearing this dress again. Shit.

She headed inside, setting the untouched sandwich on the counter in the back and looking for something to clean this off with. They had nothing more than coffee and cold cuts back here. She had a great way of getting rid of stains before they set, but it was at home, and the only place to get everything was the general store. It was the closest place, but she'd have to walk there and be seen with this huge stain on her dress. Maybe Michonne had a long coat or something.

Carol checked the coat rack only to see umbrella's hanging up, and she wanted to punch herself for suggesting they take the coats home last month. She really needed to start being lazier about season changes. She inhaled and decided to just go without a coat. It was starting to set, and she was starting to smell like a salad. She texted Michonne to let her know she'd be late coming back from her lunch and slipped out the back door. She didn't want to talk to Michonne right now. She and Hershel both were trying to pep talk Carol into being open for a good relationship, but she wasn't in the mood for a lecture again. She loved them, but why couldn't they just let her grow old and bitter? She'd been young and bitter, so why change it up?

She covered her face when the Chambler family walked by on their way to the lake, and she hurried the last two blocks to the general store, praying it wasn't busy. It the perfect time for ice cream bars, and the ice cream pallor was closed for remodeling until next week, so she prayed it wasn't loaded with kids and parents.

And it wasn't. There were a few kids inside with their older siblings, tourists, but other than that it was just Daryl and Dale. She was so relived, and she looked for the items she needed to remove the stain. She used her purse to hide it while she looked, and she saw jeans come into her peripheral view. She looked up at Daryl, and she stood up.

"You all right? You're out of breath." He noticed a certain smell to her that wasn't there before, too, and he tried not to make it obvious, but she looked defeated. "Rough day?"

_Very_. She moved her purse._ And you don't have what I need to get rid of this._

"I got somethin' that might work. C'mere." He headed to the back of the store, asking Dale to man the counter, and Carol wasn't sure she was allowed to follow him back. He turned and motioned for her to follow, and she scurried over with a wave to Dale.

Daryl closed the door behind them and guided her through the breakroom, and Carol rubbed her arms at how cold it was back here. Compared to the heat of the store, it felt like a meat locker. It was likely the summer heat through the glass warming them, and there were no windows in the stockroom. It was chill, especially in a knee-length dress with no sleeves. She was not dressed for this. Jesus, where was the breakroom?

Daryl opened the door and hit the lights, Carol slipped inside and was disappointment that it was the same temperature as the stockroom, but she didn't linger on it. Daryl sat her down and dug through the cabinets, pulling down a small jar and a toothbrush. He tossed a dishtowel at her and told her to put over her knee. He pulled a chair up to her, dropping the jar and toothbrush on the table. He went back to prepare a glass of warm water.

She picked up the jar and recognized Nadia's handwriting. It was another of her homemade recipes. This was a stain remover from the label. She twisted it open and smelled it, and it cleared her sinuses for the next fifteen years. She coughed and set it down, looking up when he sat down. She tried to speak, but he pulled her chair closer until she was right up against him. She swallowed and tensed when he lifted her knee up, his skin against hers, and she couldn't help the red painting her cheeks.

They didn't move for talk for about twenty minutes while he tended to the stain, and Carol tried to concentrate on anything other than how close he was. She couldn't help but be embarrassed. If she had been more careful with her lunch, this wouldn't happening. At the angle he had her at, all he had to do was look a little to the left, and he'd seen her panties. She couldn't say he hadn't already, but she hoped he didn't. She had felt so good about her dress and everything, so she wore a black underwear set, and it left nothing to the imagination it was so sheer. Although if she had the one with lace roses, she was fine. She couldn't remember, though.

Carol saw movement and looked over at Nadia and reddened even more, shifting her knee and whacking Daryl in the forehead. She gasped and reached for him, and he groaned, wincing, and Nadia snickered at them.

"Thanks, boss." Daryl pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What's going on in here?" She looked them over and spotted the unfinished work of her stain remover. "Daryl, you know it'll have to be washed immediately after application, right?"

He closed his eyes and groaned. "Now I do."

Carol looked from Daryl to Nadia, having missed her comment and frowned.

_It's fine, honey. Let's go upstairs. I'll take care of that for you. _She headed up the stairs and turned the lights onto the sewing studio she used to use for alterations. She kept it clean, so there was no fine layer of dust on anything, but she might have Daryl add some window. It was stuffy up here.

_Thank you for trying._ Carol smiled and touched his brow. She pulled her hand back when he winced. _I'm sorry._

"It's...what is it." He managed a smile. "She's better suited to help you anyway."

She nodded and rose, padding up the stairs after Nadia. She was immediately told to strip and was directed to sakura blossom changing partition, and Nadia let her decide on the dresses she had hanging back there. She didn't think any of them were her style, but she was now naked and cold in an attic, so she had to chose.

She slipped into a light rose colored dress. It was absolutely gorgeous, and it was surprisingly soft against her skin. She loved the flowy hem and wanted to spin to kick it up, but she wasn't a teenager. And Nadia was right outside the changing partition, and she'd probably fall smack on her face. She didn't want to explain how that happened or risk exposing her ass. She did _not_ have the lace rose panties on.

"Oh, you look like gorgeous." Nadia paused lightly scrubbing in the stain remover and gushed over the angel in the room. "That color suits you."

Carol couldn't help but smile. _Thank you. I'll take care of it and bring it back tomorrow._

"Keep it, dear, keep it. It'll just collect dust up here." She rose from her desk and grasped Carol's arms. "Aww, you're a picture. Feel free to help yourself to any of these dresses. Give my work some life for me."

She embraced her as thanks, Nadia assured her she'd have her dress done by tomorrow, and Carol departed to get back to work. Daryl was caught up with kids demanding more ice cream sandwiches, and Dale had to do a double take of her. He hadn't seen the dress in years, and he was glad it not only helped but could benefit Carol in this moment. Oil-based stains were Nadia's favorite, and Carol would be lucky if she let Carol have the dress back after all her work, but it'd be an uneven trade. This dress was made for Carol. It had to be. Hopefully someone else was made for her, too, but he'd keep that to himself.

Carol hurried back to the pet store and nearly died from the brisk run and the heat. Michonne tossed her bottle of water and playfully whistled at her. She gave into the urge and spun for Michonne, who laughed and asked where it came from. She told her about the whole lunch-Daryl-Nadia mess, and Michonne made her watch the counter while she restocked. Carol was glad to have something normal to return to, and Michonne was tempted to drop some oil on herself to see if Nadia would give the same treatment.

They wrapped up the day with a few customers, mostly people coming into play with the animals, and their puppy Toby was bought by a very sweet couple who just had a baby. The baby and Toby were the same weeks old, and they wanted them to grow up together. Michonne offered them a discount on food and toys, and Carol brought it home with their website of homemade treats. They high-fived when the couple left, because it was a win for the store, but more importantly, baby Tobs got a new and awesome set of parents. They could tell that couple would come back with Toby and baby Alice in five, or six years, and it'd be storybook.

Michonne said she'd pick Carol up in the morning for breakfast at Jerry's Diner, and they'd make the drive out the theme park and spend the entire day there. She would be sure to bring her camera in case her phone died, and Carol promised to bring some sunscreen and spare drinks. They made a list of last-minute items to get from the store before they left, and Carol was pumped. She couldn't wait to spend the entire day with Andre and Michonne.

"I'm so glad we're doing this." Michonne leaned against her car, and Carol nodded in agreement. "Last summer we took a road trip, remember? You and Andre got so sick from that chili contest we found."

_It burned my throat. I'm sure it was bleeding, and poor Andre was down for the rest of the day. He only had one bean._

She giggled. "You were dying, though. I had to go the pharmacy across the street, and you about killed me for telling them your symptoms."

_Because you worded it in the worse way._

"I'm sorry. Was explosive shit not the best wording?" She busted out laughing at Carol's deadass stare. "Oh, God."

_You are such a dick. I couldn't even go there the next day to get tampons, because they knew me by that!_

"I know. It was great." She felt her chest aching from lack of air, and she smacked her knee on the way down. "You—you—Fuck, I can't."

Carol dug her keys out of her bag and headed for her car.

"Oh, come on, wait." Michonne jogged after her, reduced to giggles, and held her hand. "We'll make explosive with laughter memories tomorrow, okay? You, me and our little man. We'll have a great time. I promise. I'll pick you up. Be ready."

You too. She unlocked her car. I love you.

"I love you too." She walked back to her car and watched Carol leave. She exhaled and hoped the guilt building inside her heart stopped. She wasn't doing anything wrong. It was just being a good neighbor, but it still felt like it would hurt Carol if she told her. She knew if she said the whole truth, it would hurt Carol. It'd made Carol be angry at herself, so she wouldn't mention it. They'd have fun tomorrow. It'd be fine. They'd have fun, and this would go away. It had to, right?


	5. Life In Color

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

They had a full breakfast Jerry's family own diner, Carol and Michonne stopped by the store to get gas and some snacks for the trip, and Andre told Dale all about their plans. Nadia was still working on the dress, and Carol told him to tell her it'd be fine if she needed more time. She still wore the one Nadia had given her, because it was so light and great for the summer sun. Not to mention she looked pretty hot in it. She wasn't going to lie. She'd done her makeup and braided her hair, so she looked and felt really pretty. Michonne had to step up her game, or she'd look like the sloppy lesbian half of this parenting couple. She threw on a dress and tennis shoes and let Carol braid her dreads. It was out of boredom, because Andre couldn't decide on what shoes to wear.

"Let me know how the park is. I might go up there myself with Nadia." Dale tossed in a couple of brownies Nadia had made. "Don't forget that sunscreen."

_Trust me, I won't. I burn horribly_. Carol picked Andre up to keep him from running out the door, and he smiled at her, asking if they were going yet. She nodded.

"We'll bring you back a prize," Michonne promised Dale. "Want a stuffed animal or funnel cake?"

"My heart says funnel cake, but my doctor says stuffed animal."

"All right. I'll win you something huge." Michonne collected the bags. "Do either of you have to potty before we go?"

Carol narrowed her eyes to slits at her.

"It's an hour trip, and you both drank a lot at breakfast and have small bladders. It's a valid question."

Carol flipped her off.

"It's the truth, and while it's a tempting offer, I'll stick to what I know." She smirked. "Andre?"

"I gotta go." He nodded.

"You wanna take him? I can put these up and come back."

Carol shook her head and set Andre down, taking his hand and heading to the bathroom. She was able to wait inside with him, because she couldn't hear him. She chose to wait outside the door anyway, and she wondered what today would have in store for them. She hoped it was a good day. The weather was supposed to be warm and cloudy, and it wasn't supposed to rain again for a couple days, so she was hopeful.

"Hey." Daryl stepped out of the back, adjusting the sleeves to his shirt. "Why are you always here?"

_It is the only store within fifteen minutes of my house,_ she teased and smiled at him._ But I can stop coming by and just go to the actual store thirty minutes away. They make my favorite chocolate cake, too. _

"Yeah, but think of how it'd hurt Dale and Nadia." He looked down and noticed the dress she wore. He'd seen it in Nadia's studio, but he'd never seen it on a person. It was a little loose on the mannequin and dull in the attic, but fuck, it was really nice on her. Nice and hung on her hips, and he could almost see her bare leg from how she was leaning against the wall. His mouth ran dry.

_Nadia gave it to me yesterday after I ruined my dress,_ she explained when he kept eyeing the dress. _I doubt I do it any justice, but I didn't steal it or anything._

"No, I didn't think you did. I... You just look... uh, you look tall. Are you wearing heels or something?" He brought a hand from his head to hers and found she was almost his height. "Yeah, we're about the same height."

_I'm wearing wedges_. She straightened her posture. _It is summer, and I don't want the hem to drag the ground._

"Smart." He cleared his throat. "I should get back to work, but it's a nice a dress."

_Thank you. We're heading to the theme park today. It's supposed to the biggest hit this summer. Have you gone?_

"I'm not a theme park person, but if I get my nephew, we might swing by. Let me know if it's worth it."

_For sure. Just let me know...when he's coming. I'd love to meet him._

"Why?" He didn't mean for it to sound so rude, and even though it didn't matter, because she hear the tone, he still didn't mean for it to sound so harsh. He could hardly help it. Nobody ever wanted to meet any of his family without wanting something, and he knew she wasn't like that, but why was she so invested in his life? They were sort of...acquaintances, but not really, so why did she care?

_He's your family, isn't he? I'd love to meet Peter, and your brother, too, if you'll let me. It's your choice, and I wouldn't want to rush anything. We're hardly friends, but you know I'd like us to be. _She was about to say more when Andre stepped out and was ready to go. _Oh, Andre, this is my friend, Daryl. Daryl, this is my godson, Andre._

"Hey, little buddy." Daryl bent down and held his hand out, getting smacked with sobbing wet hand that smelled of soap. He must have forgotten to put paper towels in there last night. He knew there was something, but he thought it was the sweeping. He thought wrong, evidently, and now he had a child's poorly rinsed off hands to show for it.

"Hi." Andre beamed at the stranger and headed out to find his mom.

Carol chuckled and waved goodbye to Daryl, catching up to Andre before he was out the door.

"You gotta come out and say it, or should I?" Dale tossed a roll of paper towels at Daryl.

Daryl tore one off and dried his hands, tucking the roll under his arm. "That I shouldn't shake hands with a kid? Probably can say that myself."

"You'll have to admit it sooner or later, you know."

"Admit what? She's hot, okay? I'll say that, but I am leaving this town. She's helping me so I can leave faster, so drop it."

"Only if you promise to top by now and then after you leave."

"I can't." He lifted his head to meet Dale's eyes. "I won't come back once I leave, and it's not against you. I just don't...come back to visit places I used to live in."

He nodded. "And if Carol...asks you to visit?"

"Same answer. It's why I don't make friends, because everything is temporary." He pulled the roll out from under his arm. "Sorry, man, but that's...just how I live. Once I find a place I like... I dunno, maybe I'll change."

Dale chuckled with no trace of humor to the sound, and he studied Daryl for a moment. "Or...maybe you don't like it anywhere, because you don't like yourself."

Daryl felt like Dale had punched him square in the jaw, and all that fell out were a couple of strained breaths. He didn't know how to respond, and Dale didn't seem interested in a response any. He dropped his eyes when customers came in, and he stepped into the bathroom to replace the roll of paper towels, catching a glimpse of his reflection. He averted his eyes and walked out, going to the back to restock...anything.

– – –

They had spent the entire morning riding rides and trying anything the venders were selling, Michonne had taken so many pictures, and Carol couldn't stop grinning. They were having such a good time, and they had stopped for lunch at the pizza place. They took that time to rest their feet and look over the park from the picnic tables. There were so many people here, and it was loud and hectic, but it was the most fun Carol'd had in months. It was the most Michonne had laughed in weeks, and it was the hyperest Andre had gotten in a day.

When the sun sank beneath the clouds, the park came alive in colors and music, and Michonne wanted to hit up all the games. She owed Dale a gift, and Carol had a really great arm for throwing. Andre was pumped and picked out the water shooting game. Michonne was a pro at it, and Carol just have it a shot for the hell of it. Andre was just the worst, but he had fun with it. They couldn't ask for more.

Michonne and Carol talked about old times at the town fair and how some of the games were similar, and Andre held onto their hands. Mostly they were stick together, because of the cotton candy and funnel cake. Michonne had some hand sanitize in her purse, but she probably needed a bathroom to really scrub this type of sticky off. She couldn't wait to hold his hand and not touch everything he'd put into his mouth. She wasn't sure it was possible, but she had high hopes for the future.

Carol spotted the hoop toss game and went for it, Michonne stood beside her with Andre, and they watched as she handed the game its ass on a neon pink hoop. Michonne let Andre pick out the prize since Carol won it for him, and he settled on a purple money. Michonne was left to hang onto it, but oh well. He would sleep with it once and then it would join the mass of toys she had to trip over on the way to the bathroom at night.

Michonne and Carol both won a prize at the bottle-ball game, Carol picked out a stuffed baseball bat, and Michonne won Dale a green stuffed bird. It was ugly as all get out, but she knew Dale would love it. He'd add it to his collection of junk in his RV. Michonne would have to see if she could borrow it again for another road trip next year. She would love to see the Grand Canyon, and maybe Carol would tag along too. Carol and hopefully her hope and cheerful personality. If not, she and Rick were going to sit down and talk about it. She doubted Rick could help, but she was out of options. Everyone would spill the beans to Carol, but Carol wouldn't talk to Rick even if he was the last man on earth.

"Okay, I think we should get some ice cream and head home," Michonne signed over the noise, speaking to her son as well. "Do you want anything else? Nachos? A hot dog?"

"Nachos!" Andre yelled out over the noise, begging. "Please, please, please."

"Fine but no ice cream."

"Aww, Mommy, that's not fair."

"That's life." She turned to Carol. _Anything_?

_I'm fine, but t—_

"Hey, watch it." A man who had completely bumped into Carol shouted at her as she tripped sideways, and he snorted at her. "Are you blind? I'm walking here."

She didn't say anything, just made an apologetic gesture and tried to walk away.

"What, are you deaf? You ain't gonna apologize?"

"Nathan, cut it out," a girl softly pleaded. "We just got here. You're gonna get us kicked out."

"This bitch is being rude. First she runs right into me, and now she's blowin' me off with the silent treatment, like I'm in the wrong."

"You were the one who ran into her," Michonne corrected, moving Andre behind her. "_You_ should apologize to _her._"

"Excuse me?" He scoffed and chose to get in Carol's face instead. "If _she_ has something to say, let her say it. Come one, bitch, say something."

"Nathan, back off!" the girl hissed.

"Fuck, let's just leave him." A younger boy in a hoodie suggested and walked off.

"Fine by me." The girl followed suited and rolled her eyes at this Nathan.

"Just go back to your friends and leave us alone." Michonne tried to get in between him and Carol. "Now."

"Not until I hear her apologize."

"Hey, buddy, cut it out," a man who had seen everything butted in. "Leave the lady alone, or pick on someone your own size."

"The fuck you just say?"

Michonne grabbed Carol's wrist and hauled her away in one hand with her son in the other. They didn't get nachos, just headed for the car, and Andre pouted, because he got neither an ice cream cone nor nachos. Carol apologized and felt lousy, and Michonne assured her it wasn't on her at all. They had a great time, and Michonne made plans to go home and have some ice cream and look over the pictures together. It brought the mood up, and Carol suggested getting some fudge syrup and chopped nuts. Michonne was glad things were back to how they were, and it stuck with them on the drive back home.

Andre passed out, Carol was well on her way to passing out, and Michonne pulled over at Dale and Nadia's house to drop off the stuffed animal. It was a little after seven, so they were bound to be awake, and Carol roused when the door closed, feeling the car vibrate. She unclasped her seat belt and opened the door, reaching down and undoing the straps to her wedges. She tumbled out of the car and almost into the cool grass but caught herself on the door. She looked up at the unfamiliar house and realized they weren't home just yet.

She spotted Dale and Michonne on the porch, Dale waved to her, and she waved back, heading to see what was going on. Michonne reminded her of the toy she won for him, Carol sleepily nodded and rubbed her eye, and Dale offered them some pie. Michonne didn't want to be rude, but she was ready to be at home in pajama shorts and no bra, and luckily Andre was out cold in the car. She used him as her excuse.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Michonne guided Carol back to the car. "I need so much sleep."

_Ice cream and photos for breakfast?_ Carol sloppily grinned.

"Why not?" Michonne returned it. "Watch your head."

– – –

They spent the morning looking at pictures and having ice cream, Michonne decided to take Andre into work with her today instead of calling the babysitter, and Carol was off to see Daryl. She had to stop by her cottage and wrap her ankle from the shove she'd gotten last night, but otherwise she was ready to go. She changed into shorts and t-shirt, tying her tennis shoe strings and heading out. She had the bat to deliver to him for his nephew, and maybe she could a little more painting for him. She was seriously behind.

She arrived at his house a little after noon, seeing the front door was ajar, and she hurried inside, knocking loudly on the wall, but there was no response. Spike did come running from down the stairs at the noise, and she caught his face in her hands, seeing he was completely fine. She relaxed only slightly at that. It could be that Daryl hadn't closed the door all the way because he lived out the middle of the woods, and he was listening to music and just didn't hear her.

She padded up the stairs to his bedroom to see if he was there, but his bed was made up, and the outline for the house was thrown to the floor. She noticed the beer cans lining the desk and turned to Spike, and he stood up at her gaze, barking as if to get her attention, to make her follow.

She sped after him, minding her ankle on the stairs, and he escorted her out through the back door, which was also left open. She hurried after Spike, following him down a trail and deeper into the woods. She was grateful it was a path and the branches weren't too overgrown. She had to duck a few, noting how some were hanging and others were lying on the ground. She also spotted some dragging footsteps and prayed he was all right. She hoped he was just drunk. Drunk and okay.

The duo came to the end of the trail, Carol ducked under the arched branches and found a dock, her heart stopping at Daryl sitting at the edge of it. She scrambled down the dock and over to him, finding an empty bottle of whiskey beside him along with the rest of the beers. She dropped down beside him, and he was still conscious, but he was smelled like a cheap liquor store. She groaned and tried to help him stand up, but he didn't budge.

She huffed and tugged on his sleeve. He had to get away from the edge. She couldn't drag his ass out of the water, so he had to move his ass. Ugh, why did he weigh so much? All that muscle. Jesus H. She smacked his shoulder and shook him. Get up!

"You should give up." He was laughing. "You're gonna get nowhere—fast."

She glared.

"It must suck to not be able to talk." He hiccuped and groaned. "You must be...like, super pissed and just signin' away, and it's... it's kinda funny to think about."

_Like this moment right now, you incredible ass? _She doubted he could understand her signing right now, but she was willing to try.

"Hmm, too fast." He pulled his legs out of the water and looked her over. "Do you make noise? Like...any noise?"

She frowned at him. _What are you asking me?_ His words were slurring, and his mouth didn't match up to any actual words she could make out. _Daryl_?

"I bet...fuckin' you is...an experience. Like...am I good? Am I not?" He chortled. "You'd be one hell of a self-esteem shaker. I'd love to see ya cum." He reached for a beer can, but she smacked it out of his hand. "Ow."

_Get up._ She stood up and offered her hand.

He squinted up at her. "God, you have great legs. Wouldn't mind 'em wrapped around my waist... I'd fuck you for hours."

She blushed and moved back from him. Oh, God, what the hell was he talking about? She'd only made out her legs and fucking her for hours.

"I'd blow a load in you so hard."

She walked away and covered her face with her hands. This was not how today was supposed to go. They were supposed to fix the house. She wasn't supposed to listen to his drunken, horny ramblings. God damn it. She had to get him inside. She just had no idea how she was going to do that. She wondered if she had the strength to carry him. There was really only one way to find out.

She turned as he peeled himself up off the dock, and she watched him trip and fall into the lake. She cursed and smacked a hand to her face before diving in after him. She used the momentum of the dive to plunge deep into the inky waters, his body was falling fast, and she reached out for his hand drifting in the darkness...

It was ten o' clock in the evening, Daryl woke up with a pounding headache on the floor of his bedroom, and Spike wagged his tag at him. He groaned at how much his mouth tasted like lake water, and he pushed himself up carefully, feeling his clothes crunchy on his body. He'd definitely fallen into the lake. He had done this a couple of times before, but mostly it was in the park or something. Never in his own backyard, but hey, first time for everything.

He threw the clothes off and stumbled to his shoulder, grabbing his toothbrush on the way. He scrubbed everything down and cleaned the lake from his teeth. He washed his hair and wanted to make it illegal to buy booze for himself. Hell, he was so trashed when he bought that beer and whiskey. He didn't know why that guy sold it to him. He walked home, but shit. He could have gotten hurt. Guess this was one of those moments where if he'd made friends with everyone, he'd been safe. What a cutthroat town. Common decent didn't exist unless you were friends. Ugh.

He dried off and changed into a hoodie and sweats, going downstairs to find anything to help with this hangover. If he still had the bourbon in the fridge, he was going to barf on it. It'd be a shame. He had leftovers in there from the Horvath's. Maybe the puke would miss it.

As he dragged himself down the hall, he began to realize he shouldn't be in the house. If he'd fallen into the lake, he must have blacked out. How the hell did he get home? Did Dale come and check on him? Probably the do-good cashier at the liquor store ratted him out to his boss. He didn't want to deal with Dale's disappointment right now. He had to sit there and bear it the entire time Dale lectured him on the dangers of drinking so heavily alone at the lake, and he told Dale he wouldn't do it again. He didn't intend to, but hey, triggers were sneaky bastards, and his childhood had been utter trash. It wasn't too out of reality for him to drink and slowly become his bastard father. At least he had no kids to beat.

He turned left to go through the living to get to the kitchen since he didn't want to trample through paint cans. He found the aspirin and cup of water waiting for him, and he was glad Dale had been kind to offer the pills and water first. Last time had been hell, and his eyes almost boiled out of his head. He'd have to thank the old man and beg him to just lay off. He was the asshole who had to play therapist and try to get inside his head. He didn't ask for it. There were so many things he didn't ask for but got anyway.

He set the glass down and noticed the lights to the study were on. He pushed off the counter and shuffled over to the doorway to find Carol peeling the tape off the crown molding in his hoodie and his ex's jeans. He blinked and stumbled back at the memories of her help him. Oh, fuck, that wasn't a dream? Then...he really said those things? Fuck! He didn't mean them. Well, he did mean some of them, but not the ones he may have said. Why couldn't be remember?! This was why he didn't drink whiskey. This was why he didn't drink period! Shit, shit, shit. How was he going to make this right? He was pretty sure he asked if she made any noise when she orgasmed. God, did he ask if he could wear her thighs like a scarf for an afternoon? Or was that after he blacked out? No, no, no, did he say the one with his tongue and her—

_You're awake. _She looked him over for any injures having set and was glad to see he didn't have any. Aside from the knot he likely had in his head when she pulled too hard and caused him to smack against the house. It might not have been an accident, but it certainly wasn't consciously done.

"I—I am." He cut a look from the left to the right, trying to think of what to say.

_So, do you still want to know if I orgasm silently?_ She smiled sweetly, and he went blood red, stammering and panicking.

"Fuck. I—I'm so sorry. I become an asshole when I get drunk." He grimaced. "I'm sorry. I don't...think of you like that. I really don't."

_So I don't have great legs?_

"Why are you doing this to me?" He slumped against the wall and slid down.

She laughed softly and sat down in front of him in the doorway. _Because you made me dig you out of a lake and bring you home sobbing wet. Do you have any idea how hard is it carry a body upstairs?_

"Don't ask questions, but yes." He exhaled and looked her over, reaching out and tugging on the bunched up material of his hoodie. "This is mine."

_Yeah, your ex has slutty taste, and my clothes weren't dry. I had to improvise, and you weren't conscious to ask. _

"I'm sorry I made you jump into a lake after me, but thank you. For the rescue and everything. I coulda died if you weren't there."

_Spike would've pulled you out. He's a good boy._ She looked over at him, and he jumped over and slid into her lap.

"I dunno. He seems to like you more." He scratched behind his ear, and Spike cut him a warning look before he licked his hand. "He doesn't like when I drink either."

_I can't imagine why. You're such a prince._

"Look, I'll make it up to you. I'll help you paint the living room. I think the blue would suit it best." He minded Spike and stood up, offering her a hand, and she accepted it. "I'll get the tape. Why don't you open the paint and get new brushes?"

_Why all of a sudden do you want to paint the living room?_

"I dunno. It's not as noisy as flooring."

_Fair point._

He pushed the couch into the study and began to tape edge of everything while she prepared the rollers and brushes, and Spike lied down in the newly painted study. Daryl watched her carry in the paintbrushes and pan for the rollers, noting that she was astonishingly the same size as his ex-girlfriend. The pants were made to be tight, but she wore them well. Hell, he'd have to gift them to her, but the idea of giving her pants that accentuated her ass didn't seem like a good idea. Especially given his harassment of her earlier. He really needed to never drink in front of her ever again. No more talks wit Dale, that was for sure.

She set a hand on his arm, and he looked over at her. _What made you want to drink? And don't say you just felt like it and got carried away. You were looking to get drunk. I found the bourbon and scotch under the sink, so please tell me what's going on. _

"I had a bad day, that's all."

_Is there anything I can do to help?_

"Just...keep me company, please."

She smiled softy. _Of course._

"I'll take the roller. Do you want to do the outline?" He bent down and looked up to see her answer, and it was a yes. He watched her carefully skim the edges of the tape, and he began to work on the wall as she finished. He liked having her around, he was starting to realize. He hadn't had a friend in years, and maybe he needed one. He'd never been friends with a girl. He wasn't even friends with his nephew's mother, so he wasn't sure how this would work, but he should probably stop staring at her ass when she bent over. That would be a good start.

She joined him with a roller once the walls were all outline, and they quietly worked together to paint the walls. They didn't notice as they fell into unison, moving from space to space, Carol covering any and all spots he missed with her killer vision, and Daryl tried to make her job easier, but he wasn't a painter. He normally hired someone to paint, or he let the new owners go and just figure it out themselves. It was a way to bond with the house, which is probably why he didn't do it. He never set roots, and he couldn't to do it now. Having a friend didn't involve roots. It just...involved conversation and shit. He could do that. She was easy to talk to, and she always seemed to be listening, and it wasn't just to respond to him. That was real nice.

Daryl felt something wet slid across his arm, Carol gasped and realized she's zoned out and painted his arm instead of the wall, because he'd zoned out and stopped painting. He turned his arm over, and she apologized, but told her it was fine. He set the roller down and went over to the TV stand to get a rag to clean his arm. She went to his side to help, and he wiped a paintbrush across her cheek. Her mouth fell open in shock then twisted in a cocky smirk and she rollered his face.

"Hey, hey." He jumped back and blindly swatted at her, knowingly ruining his on hoodie in this process. "Cut it out!"

She grabbed a paint brush and dipped it onto the paint and flicked him with it.

"My floor!" He ducked the paint and heard it smack against the plastic sheets. "You're a shit."

She laughed and dodged his brush, but she didn't expect him to grab her. She yelped and tried to escape, but he rolled her hair and her neck, and she elbowed him to get free. She wiped the paint from her neck and glowered at him, reaching for the bucket of paint.

Spike heard squealing and grunting and lifted his head. He heard Carol give a yelp, and he darted into the next room, ready for a fight, but the humans were just on the floor, wrestling with paintbrushes. He barked and panted, wagging his butt before charging at them to join.

"Spike, no, wait!"

The can of paint gushed out onto the floor, Carol's paintbrush flew into the air, and Daryl was crushed by both Carol and the dog. He groaned and remembered he was still hurting from the fall into the lake and the hangover, and he hated his life choices. At least Carol didn't dig at him, unlike the dog who hopped up and demanded to be wrestled with. Daryl really wanted that cat now.

Carol sat up, pulling her leg over his waist and calming Spike down. He was so excited for play, and that wasn't what was meant to happen. She saw the paint spreading across the living room floor and bit her bottom lip. She didn't want this to happen. She honestly had no idea a paint fight would break out or that they'd be tackled by a seven-plus pound dog. She only wanted to paint and make the living room pretty with company, but instead it looked like a crime scene.

"Kill me." Daryl hadn't opened his eyes since Spike tackled. "Please."

She instead reached over and moved paint-crusted hairs from his face, he opened his eyes, and they both laughed. God, this was such a mess.

"I'll just put down carpet," he grumbled.

_Probably best if we can't get it up. _

"What we?"

_We are a we. Deal with it. _She looked over at Spike who smacked her with his paws, and she kissed his brow. _You, too._

"So...who showers first?" Her eyes widened, and she gripped his shirt, and he felt threatened for a moment. She was excited, and she was grinning. He didn't know what she was trying to do until he saw her mouth moving. Fuck, she was so excited...she was trying to speak. "Carol, I—"

_Could I use the tub?_ Her eyes were sparkling, and he couldn't look away from her. _The one upstairs? Please? I'll clean it up if the paint stains._

"Go right ahead."

She took off like a shot up the stairs, and he laughed after. He didn't expect today to end like this, but why the hell not? He could use some laughter in his life. Of course he might need more booze if he look at the floor he finished only in March.

––

They settled on the back porch once clean and dressed, Daryl some burgers for dinner as a thank you for saving his life and all, and they watched Spike chase the fireflies. Carol hadn't stopped smiling since he woke up, and Daryl had a small smile on his lips himself, and Spike was fucking ecstatic about the whole day. Daryl tossed him a small burger, and he had been jumping around ever since.

Carol lightly tapped his shoulder, he looked over at her, and she signed: _Are you going to the town fair on the twentieth?_

"I dunno. Never went any other year."

_Why not? It's a lot of fun and full of homemade foods and games. There's fireworks at the end of it, and free t-shirts. _She turned to face him. _We could go together._

"Together?" He straightened up. "I mean...I dunno."

_It'll be a lot of fun. My friend Michonne would love to see Spike again, and her little boy is very sweet. He'd love to hang out with you. You could play games with him, and I can show you my ball toss game. I'm amazing. _She flashed an jesting smile, and his heart sank somewhat. _What do you say?_

"I might have to go into the city," he lied, averting his eyes. "I ain't one for crowds anyway. Sorry."

_Could you think about it at least? _She studied him for a moment, and he sighed softly. _For me?_

"That's not fair," he murmured.

_It's not fair that I want you to meet my other friends? That I want to show you a wonderful part of our town? Daryl, come on, that isn't about fair. It's just one day. It'll be great. I promise. If you're too uncomfortable once we're there, we can go get some beers and sit by the docks. We don't have to stay. I just want you to try. This is a special place to live, and I'm not trying to make you stay, but I am trying to make you see this isn't just some sleepy, boring town to recover in and then leave forever._

"You sound like Dale." He rolled his eyes.

_Dale has a point. Please?_

"I know Michonne wants this place, so if you're just trying to get close to me for her, I can cut her a good deal. Don't worry about it. I'll finish the paint and furnishings myself." He didn't make eye contact and bit into his burger. "It's cool. I'm used to it."

Her eyes burned, and she opened her mouth to object, but of course nothing came out. She stood up and went inside, and he didn't follow her. She grabbed her things and left. She gripped the steering wheel to her car tightly, steadying her erratic breathing as tears burned her eyes, and she backed up and headed for home. She didn't make it ten minutes down the road before she had to stop.

She rested her forehead on her hand on the wheel and clenched her jaw. How dare he say that to her?! She had no intentions of asking him to lower the selling price for Michonne. She genuinely wanted to be his friend, and he thought it was for personal gain. Did she really come off as selfish? All she wanted was to let him see the beauty of this town, and he just assumed she had to want something from him. God, what a jerk. She wanted nothing from him. Friendship, maybe, if that was so terrible.

She inhaled deeply and lifted her head. If friendship really was the worst thing someone could do to him then fine. She wouldn't be his friend. Clearly, it was asking for too much from him, and she wouldn't want to add the reasons why he's miserable and spends his mornings getting drunk. If she wanted to be with someone who made her feel like a burden, she'd just move back home and spend time with the people there. She wouldn't live that life here. She moved to get away from all of that, and she would be damned if she let Daryl make her feel like this.

She dried her eyes and drove home.


	6. Oreo Pie

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

Carol had taken the day off and went to see how the Greene's were. The clinic was closed for the day, and she wouldn't mind seeing Shawn and Annette for once. She even wore her boots for riding. She hoped to get in some time with the animals. She loved the cows and the horses and the sheep. She wanted to be around that cuteness and life. She'd been down in the dumps since last Wednesday, and she didn't want to even think about. She'd lost many friendships in the past, beginning or longtime. She'd be fine. She had other friends. And potential baby daddy.

She was greeted by Annette and Patricia, and she melted into Annette's hug. She was the best hugger in the entire world, and Carol needed one more than she thought. She hugged Patricia next and asked how they were doing. She was brought up to speed on the farm life, and she was lucky to have come by today, because they were expecting a baby girl calf today. Carol had helped with the birth of Julie Bee, and she wanted to help with the birth of nameless baby girl who Beth was supposed to name but forgot to. They were just going with baby girl for now.

Carol walked with to the barn and saw Hershel and Shawn, and she greeted them both with a hug. She told Hershel their last conversation was water under the bridge, and he had a point. She still had something to hope for, but it wasn't romantic love. Familial love would do just fine. She felt that even more after helping bring little baby Bell into the world—Beth had texted them with the name after they spent a picture of her the newborn. It was meant to be Belle, like the Disney princess, but she left off an E. There was no going back.

Hershel sent Carol and Shawn inside to clean themselves off and to avoid the rain that was coming, and Patricia asked them to send Otis out. They did as they were told, Carol was glad to have him alone, and Shawn asked her to stay for dinner. She agreed, mostly because she hadn't eaten real food in a couple days, and Annette had mentioned a new pie recipe. She loved pie, and she would be eating every inch of the slice given to her.

"What brings you by?" Shawn handed Carol a bottle of water. "I know it wasn't horror of birth."

She smiled and rolled her eyes, setting the bottle down. _I wanted to talk to you about something. It's important._

"Oh? Well, why don't you come up to my room? There's more privacy, and I think this shirt is just ruined."

They headed upstairs as his parents and family friends came inside to seek shelter from the rain, Shawn closed the door behind him, and Carol checked out the window while he changed his shirt. It looked so gloomy, with heavy black clouds overhead and the rain hit so roughly against the house. This wasn't a good storm to be caught up in. Driving home would be brutal.

Shawn moved beside her. "We might have to make up the guest bedroom."

_I gotta get home to prepare for the fair on Thursday, _she signed. _Michonne's opening a pet stall. I offered to help, and I haven't done any of my work._

"That brings back memories." He grinned at her. "Need any help?"

_Nah, just coffee and an all-nighter. _She returned his grin and moved away from the window. _How have you been?_

"Applying to some colleges." He sat down on his bed.

_Oh, wow, that's awesome. Why the sudden change? _She sat in front of him._ Because of Beth? She was just goading you._

"I know, but I want to do better for the farm. I'll still come back and take it over, but I want to better for me. I can't explain it in words other than that."

_That's great. I'm proud of you._

"All right, so enough small talk. What's been going on with you? Why did you want to talk to me about?" He searched her eyes. "Is everything okay?"

_It's fine for the most part. I'm well. I'm not sick or anything, but I do have a... massive request to ask of you._ She moistened her lips and just went for it. _I haven't had any luck with dating. I seem to chase them off by the dozens, and it's hurtful, but it isn't the men leaving that hurts me._

"Carol—"

_No, wait, please. I'm not done. _She steeled her resolve. _What's hurting me most is that I'm getting older, and I want a child. I adore Andre, but I want a baby of my own, and you're the only guy in this town I can ask. I know you and trust you, and I'd like to ask if you'd...give me your sperm so I could have that baby?_

His mouth fell open with nervous laughter, and he slid off the bed. He held up a finger to try and think that over, and Carol sank her teeth into her bottom lip. "You want me to help you get pregnant? Like the sex and everything? You're like a sister to me."

_No, not the sex and everything_. She stood up and explained._ I can just take some of your semen and do...that part myself. I'll do everything myself. You don't have to help me at all. I'm only asking you, because you're the only guy I know who can do this._

"Not true."

_You're the only one I trust and know everything about. I'm not looking for an answer right now, but please think it over. I can handle you saying no, too. I'll just have to look at the costly options._

"I don't know how to even...think this over, but I will try." He attempted to smile for her, but it didn't work out. "I promise I'll consider everything before I give you an answer."

_Thank you, Shawn._

Annette called up to them to ask if Carol was staying for dinner, he automatically asked her, and she nodded, even though they both knew she'd said yes already. They joined his parent's downstairs, Carol offered to help make dinner, and Shawn sat out on the porch to think. Carol hoped she hadn't asked too much of him. She hadn't even spoken to Michonne about it. She wanted her ducks in a row before she made this real. She knew Michonne would want to go over everything that could go wrong and try to talk her out of it by using the wrongs. She wouldn't give the chance. She was going through with this. It wasn't like there was anyone lining up at her door to date her and marry her and have her children. She'd taken her life into her own hands many times before, so what was once more? She'd have something precious and forever once this was over. That made her smile, and nothing would change that smile.

Dinner with the Greene's had been great. Hershel said a prayer for them and their new gift, Carol and his son, and it was very sweet. The conversation was kept light, Carol learned that Maggie was doing great at her career in the big city of New York with her fiancé, and Beth was passing all her classes at university. It was a relief to hear they were settled into their new lives with little friction. Carol had been through a backwards move that was jarring and a full-on nightmare, but she adjusted. Over time and with help from great friends, and she had prayed Maggie and Beth didn't have that same experience, because it left some scars Carol didn't want to think about.

"How is everything with you, Carol?" Annette had taken note of how little talking Carol did, and she was worried after she and Shawn came downstairs looking extremely uneasy. "How is the shop?"

_I'm doing well, thank you. The shop's the same as always. We've sold quite a few puppies since the theme park opened, and the beta fish seem to be selling out. Although the hammers haven't had much luck. I'm almost certain the people buying them are feeding them to snakes. _

"That's awful."

_Yes, it is. Michonne is being careful who she sells them to now. _She scooted a green bean across her plate with her fork and glanced at Shawn before scooping it up and eating it.

There were no sounds in the room now, Hershel didn't like the look Carol and Shawn shared, and he cut one of his own to his wife. She shrugged and drank her tea, and Shawn asked about their stall at the fair, reminding them they hadn't told Carol about it. It sent Patricia off on a tangent of baked goods, and Carol was so relieved. She could enjoy her food again, and she was glad, because the pie was coming out next.

After dessert and a cup of coffee, Carol was ready to head home. Annette didn't like the idea of her driving in this weather, but she was sure she'd make it home just fine. She gave her goodbyes and started for the door, but Hershel caught up to her with an umbrella and walked her to her car. She thanked him and rubbed her arms at the chilly rain. She couldn't wait to be home in bed. She was going to melt into her clean blankets.

"How have you been feeling lately?" Hershel inquired, and Carol peered about him. "You were bummed about relationships last time we spoke. Are you doing' better?"

_Yes, I'm in the process of making a huge life change, and I'm ready for it. I've been ready for a long time, but it's just lining up now—like you said._

"Oh? That's good. I'm happy for you."

_And you don't need to worry about me and Shawn. We just had a... real talk for once. He has a bright future ahead of him, and I'm glad he knows it now, too. She_ smiled and dug her keys out of her pocket now that her car was in sight. _Thank you for walking me. You guys have a good night._

"You too. Take care."

The ride home was nice and made Carol drowsy, and she crawled into bed ten minutes after getting home. She buried her face in her pillow and grinned in it at the possibility of Shawn's answer. She kept in mind it could easily be a no, but her heart was flying at the possibility of yes. She could hardly contain herself, but luckily, she passed out few moments later.

– – –

Tara and Denise entered the general store with the kids, Noah and Enid both bolted for the bathroom, only Enid beat him, and Noah glared at the door, standing to wait. Denise greeted Daryl and Dale and went to get some drinks for the kids, and Tara pre-paid for gas.

"You guys look miserable." Coffee-colored eyes moved from Dale's empty face to Daryl's grumpy one, and she decided to have her head chewed off. "What's going on?"

"I'm fine, but Daryl's been in a mood almost all week." Dale nudged the mentioned man, and Daryl slithered away to restock the missing four drinks. "He's thirty-four going on ten."

She chuckled. "Yes, he is. What happened?"

"I think it has to do with Carol."

"Oh? I didn't even know they were dating." She looked back at Denise and asked her to get some mint gum.

"They weren't, but she was helping him with the house. She hasn't been in the store for days, and he's been even grouchier than usual."

"Maybe he slept with her." Denise set the items on the counter and placed her hands on her hips.

"Damn, you just immediately go to "they shacked up"?" Tara smirked at her wife. "Pervert."

"I am not. It's Daryl. He's been alone this entire time, and Carol is trying to be his friend. She's nice to him. Maybe too nice, and he misread the situation. It could have happened."

"That doesn't sound too...oh, I dunno, consent friendly?"

"Let's not talk about it," Dale suggested.

"I didn't mean to imply he forced her. Maybe she gave into lust? Maybe it almost happened? Who knows for sure." Denise crossed her arms. "I'm not a pervert."

"Uh-huh." Tara slid her card when Dale gave the total. "He hasn't said anything?"

"Not a word, and I haven't seen Carol within a mile of the store in days." He bagged their items. "She's at the pet store right now. I bet the kids would like to see the new beta fish Michonne brought in."

"Are we really those kinds of people, though?" Tara looked at her wife, who ached a brow at her. "What, I have to pretend like we're not for a second."

"You should get the kids. Why don't I... check it out? It's not prodding. I'm worried about Carol. She's been in a bit of a mood since she and Rick broke up. I want to be sure she's okay." Denise cleared her throat and took the gum. "I'll see you over there in a few minutes."

"You're such a lair." Tara kissed her. "But it's a good intentions lair."

"I think you wrote that in our vows." She grinned and headed over to the pet store.

"I did," Tara confirmed to Dale. "Made her brother laugh."

"I'm sure it did." He shook his head at them. "You kids are...something else."

"But we're something else that's working," Tara added. "If you'll excuse me, I have kids to keep from destroying the bathroom."

"Thank you for being so considerate."

"It's my job."

As Tara went to break up a fight between her kids, Denise walked the few blocks to the pet store, and she found Carol inside with Michonne and Andre, a couple of tourists oohing over the new fish Michonne had brought in. Denise would have to look at them later, because they looked so pretty, but she had a mission right now.

"Hey, Carol." She pulled out a smile. "I need your help."

_Of course._ She returned the smile. _What can I do for you?_

"We were thinking about getting the kids a pet. Do you have any first pet suggestions?"

_Oh, Michonne would be better to answer that than I would. I'm not sure what she started Andre off on but she's learning towards hamster now. You should ask her. If you need any help with the food or diet, I'd be more than happy to help._

"I'd feel more comfortable asking you."

_But...you know Michonne as well as you know me. There's no reason for you feel uneasy._ She didn't like where this was going and noticed her fidgeting, her fingers closed around a packet of gum with an orange expiration sticker on it. She scoffed. _You came from the general store?_

"Huh?" She looked down at her hands and swallowed. "Not directly."

_But indirectly you just came from the general store? Why come and see me? Did Daryl say something about me?_ Her heart hurt at the thought of Daryl senselessly trashing her behind her back._ Did he?_

"No, no." She could how sorrow flitting through Carol's eyes more and more with each question. This wasn't what she intended to do. She simply wanted to know if Carol was all right. She'd been through a shit ton, so Denise had to know she was at least stable. Damn it. She shouldn't have started the conversation out like this. "This isn't about you and him or whatever happened between you two. I—Daryl is in a mood, and Dale said you hadn't been by in a few days. I was worried about you is all. Honestly."

_Nothing happen between me and Daryl, and I will be just fine if you can keep your nose on your own face. _She stormed off to the back and threw the apron she wore off, ignoring how the always loose nametag clattered to the floor. She couldn't believe this was happening. What the hell was Daryl doing or saying that made people come and seek her out for answers? First Nadia and now Denise? God, if she had to go over there and make him shut up, she would. He made it seem like something huge had happened between them when it was nothing but a couple of days of painting and distance. Ugh, he was such a worm if he was spreading rumors about her. She didn't think he was that kind of guy, but honestly, she didn't know him, so it didn't really matter. She needed to nip this in the bud.

Michonne had Andre man the counter and went after Carol, setting a hand on her shoulder and turning her around. "What's going on? You all right?"

_No! That asshole has made two people come over here and beat around the bush asking me how I am! God only knows why they're so concerned. We weren't even friends, so what is he telling people?_ She was furious and wanted to knock his lying teeth down his throat. _Why does he think it's okay to spread bullshit? God, I should go and show him what it causes._

"Hey, hey, hey, calm down. You don't know that he's started anything. People notice things and get nosy. It's probably some old Betty starting shit, stirring the pot. You know how they are."

_No, it's him. I know it's him. He's trying to blow me off for some total crap reason, and I'll make him see how wrong he is._

"Okay, you aren't doing that. You'll just make it worse."

_If he's going around talking shit about me then I will make it worse. We didn't sleep together or anything like that. There is no drama to spread. So, he must be lying! He's inadvertently sent Nadia and Denise over here to talk to me. A grandmother and therapist, Michonne. He has to be talking out of his ass for that to happen._

"He might be, or he might just be expressively grumpy. People talk over cracks in the sidewalk in this town. They have nothing better to do. Just sit back here and take your fifteen. Please don't make an ass of yourself. I'll get the facts form Denise. Okay?"

_Fine, but if he is talking about me, I'm going to kick his ass._

"Okay, and I will help you. But take a twenty and calm down."

She huffed, panting from how fired up she'd gotten just talking about the likelihood of Daryl talking about her behind her back, and she looked at Michonne. _You said 15 before._

"And I tacked on five more minutes. You look like you need 'em. Just make some tea and breathe. Don't jump on the misunderstanding bus, please."

_All right. _She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Thank you. I'll tell you everything I know after I speak to Denise. Enjoy your break."

Carol curled up onto the couch and buried her face in her hands, slumping down to her side. She heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to linger on this. She had no reason to. If he was talking shit, she'd deal with it. If not, she'd deal with whoever was trying to stir the pot. She didn't move out here to live in a drama hole. She moved out her for peace and a good life. She'd talk to anyone who was trying to change that.

Back at the general store, Daryl stocked the missing bottles and carried the crate to the back, overhearing Tara and Noah talking about meeting their mother at the pet store. He stopped walking and heard them mention Carol and himself. He set the crate down inside the doorway and threw open the door to ask what she'd just said, but they were on their way out at that point.

"Dale." He jogged over to the counter, startling the old man, who gripped his heart and wide-eye glared at him. "Sorry, man. What were they talking about? With Carol?"

"I don't know, son. They didn't speak loud enough for me to hear."

"It involved me, though. Why?"

"I have no idea." He inhaled deeply. "Should it involve you?"

"What? Of course not. We aren't a thing. Or even friends. I... made sure she knew we weren't friends."

"Now why would you go and do a thing like that?" Dale's lips turned downward as that familiar disappointment settled in, and Daryl internally groaned into the void.

"Because I just did. I ain't the friend type."

"Oh, baloney." Nadia entered from the backdoor, pushing her sunglasses up. "That's full-on baloney."

"No, it's not. I'm only friends with y'all 'cause you forced it on me."

She marched over to him and narrowed her eyes. "We both know that isn't true."

"Yeah, it is! You made me go to dinners and parties. You practically sat in with me on my lunch, and I can't even buy booze here, because you're like disapproving parents I sure as shit didn't ask for." He spewed. "So, yeah."

"I know that much, but you are full of it if you think you and Carol aren't a thing."

"But...we aren't," he reminded her. "I've only talked to her through y'all. Mostly. There were a few times outside of here, but just a few. They didn't mean anything."

"Daryl, sweetheart, I do love you, but you aren't the brightest bulb in the understanding emotions batch." She crossed her arms. "If Carol mean nothing to you, you shouldn't be such a sour puss right now."

"She tried to use me to get her friend a better deal on the house. I know the type. She tried to play it like she wanted me to stay, but she was just trying to throw me off. I caught on, and now it's over." He shrugged a shoulder. "Don't push this."

"I think it's too late for that." Dale exhaled. "Daryl, son—"

"Stop with the "sweetheart" and "son". I'm not either. I didn't ask to be. Carol is just some stranger who happens to have painted the study in the house I'm selling. That's it."

"You learned a new language just to speak to her. That isn't nothing," Nadia protested. "And what is so wrong with that? Hmm? Human connection is one of God's best gifts, you know. Don't fight it so much."

"I learned how to understand her, so I didn't have to wait ten minutes for her to scratch out a reply on a notepad. That doesn't mean shit. It looks good on my resume, too, that I know ASL. That's why I learned Spanish. For my future and for whatever jobs I may take."

"That's a terrible thing to say." Nadia stepped back from him. "Go home, Daryl. I don't want you here today."

"What?" Daryl sneered at her. "Because I'm being honest?"

"Because you seem to lack empathy, and I don't want you here today." She turned on her heel and slipped through the back door.

"Is she serious?" Daryl turned to her husband.

"Go home. We'll discuss this day after the fair."

"That's bullshit. She talks about people to kingdom come, but I get honest for one second and I'm the shit stain?" Fire lapped at his insides, and he couldn't calm his breathing. He wanted to rattle Dale for some logic in this decision, but Dale was adamant. "Fine."

"I'm sorry, Daryl."

"Sure, you are." He stomped out the front door without bothering to clock out, cursing under his breath, and he unlocked his truck, seeing Michonne reflected in the side mirror. He wanted to just leave and say fuck it. Fuck this town and fuck her, but he couldn't. He would regret doing just that, because he was pissed the fuck off and wanted to go off on everyone in this stupid, everyone-knows-everyone, shit ass town.

"Wow, you look pissed." She strolled over to him. "You and Carol got that in common right now."

"Why the fuck is she mad?" he growled. "I didn't do anything to her."

"I know that. It's people. They talk in small towns." She ran her eyes over him. "You leavin' now?"

"Yes, I'm...goin' home for the night."

She bobbed her head. "You want company?"

"Tssh, from Carol's best friend? Why?"

"Because I am Carol's best friend."

He darkly chuckled. "Yeah, you cozy right on up with her ex after she dumps him. Some friend you are."

She didn't flinch. "Rick and I are friends. We both have kids. We can relate to each other. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Right, and when you fuck him, it's still nothing?" He shook his head. "No, I'm good. You can go back and be a shitty friend to Carol. I'd rather have no friends than one like you."

"You're so angry with the world and take it out on everyone else. That's the real shitty thing here, Daryl."

"All you want to know is if Carol and I screwed around, but we didn't, okay? Are we good here?"

"I know you and Carol didn't do anything, and I don't care if you did. I just want to know that you're going to leave her be. She's had it difficult, Daryl, and you can't know the half of it. She reached out to you, and you kicked her away. If that's how you want to play this then fine, but you'd better mean it. Don't come near her again."

"Difficult?" His mouth dried out. "Difficult how?"

"You're not interested in being friends, so that's her business. She didn't tell you, and neither will I." She shifted back. "I mean what I said. Keep your distance if you don't want friendship. Even more distance if you're trying for a relationship with her. You're too angry, and you'll hurt her. I won't let that happen, so...remember that."

"Okay, Mom, I'll be sure to." He climbed into his truck and slammed the door, pulling out and onto the road.

Michonne lifted her chin and drew in air to her lungs. Being a mom and knowing Carol as well as she did was exactly why she'd made this choice. He was the type to hurt her, and he would never meant to, but it would happen. Michonne would cut him out of the equation, and things would be fine. She'd seen Carol bounce back from worse break ups, and Michonne would be right there for her as long as Carol would allow her to be.

––

Daryl cracked open the bottle of scotch from under the sink, carrying it upstairs with him, and he decided this would be his dinner for tonight. After the crud he'd been dragged through today, he deserved a liquid meal. Spike could beg for his breakfast. He might even just make the damn dog some eggs, so they wouldn't go bad sitting in his fridge.

He plopped down onto his bed and looked up through the ceiling at the bright ass afternoon sky. He groaned and brought the bottle to his lips, his brain recalling his conversation with Michonne without his consent. He didn't want to remember that uppity bitch telling him what was what and claiming to be Carol's friend. He'd seen her out with Rick four times since Carol and Rick broke up, and they were chummy. It didn't take much thought to see there was something more there than two friends chatting on kids and exes. He wouldn't be the one to tell Carol, but once it came to light, Michonne wouldn't be the best friend she thought she was. He would almost pay to see that fallout. He hoped Carol decked her for it. People couldn't claim to have your best interest in heart and hold a knife in your back at the same time.

He swallowed hard and thought of what Michonne said about Carol having a difficult life. He wondered what she meant exactly. He'd gotten Nadia pissed at him for the first time in two years by insulting Carol, which he would admit he was in the wrong—an utter fucking jackass—and now Michonne said that. It didn't make sense. Everyone in this town talked, but not once did he hear about the deaf woman who pretended to listen to music on walks. So, what the hell was so nightmarish about Carol that meant don't talk about her? He was curious, but it wasn't his business. He wouldn't make it his business. He would just work and move. It was all he was good at anyway so why break the pattern?


	7. Sparks in The Sky

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

––

Overnight the town was transformed with festival colors and stalls and rides, people flooded the streets, children were running and laughing—or arguing over who got to play a game next—and most stores were closed for the day. Everything anyone wanted or needed was already at the fair, and it was on until midnight. That meant fried goods, baked goods, snow cones, slushies and so much more would be on sale until that final stroke. Then it would be time for the firework show.

Hershel and Annette had set up their stall with some baked goods and cute baby goats for petting and feeding. Shawn and Hershel had set up the pen for the goats, and Annette was storing her pies and breads in the stall in the warmers, and at some point, in set up there was a runaway baby goat. Buster was his name, and apparently escaping was his game. Shawn went to hunt him down.

Patricia and Otis had their own stall set up away from Annette and Hershel's. Otis had set up a paint balloon game with a bow and arrow for explosive creativity. If the final product was bearable, they would hang it up in the community center. If not, they would just find something else to do it. Like use it to display anymore fresh baked and unique pies and cakes Patricia had baked up for this event. She even had more in the oven at the restaurant next door. She wanted to be on her game, especially for the baked goods competition. Nadia was her real competition, but she had a sweet bread so soft and fluffy the judged would be begging her to make more.

Dale and Nadia had a lemonade type of stand. It was so adorable with the children crafted and painted lemons, and Nadia had enough lemonade to refresh the entire town, plus the tourists. She was on her A-game, though she as still put off by the argument she'd had with Daryl. Dale agreed with her that Daryl had been an as in how he worded Carol's...condition, but they knew he kept walls up. He didn't mean to be hurtful; he was only trying to protect himself, but he went too far. He hurt someone very dear to them, and even though Carol wasn't there, it still hurt them for her. He would need to learn that causing pain was no way to cut people out. It would only invited bitterness and anger. He surely knew that. Perhaps they could lead by example with the young man. Or maybe a firm hand was needed. They couldn't be sure, but time would tell.

Tara checked in on the other stands serving food and make sure there were no fire risks this year, and Denise checked on the safety of the rides and mini games. They'd an official come through last night, but they wanted to be doubly sure. They had a nasty grease fire/burning of the teddy bears last year, and so many kids were screaming and crying, and poor Rick nearly got trampled. Dale barely pulled Carl out of the thick of it. They did not want to relive that. Someone tried to sue the entire town for damages, but luckily that man was an idiot and falsified his injuries. Tara and Michonne played private eye and foiled his plan. It'd been so much fun. She needed a normal girl's night, but she had two kids and only asshole teenagers who could babysit. Maybe she could rope in Annette or Nadia. She was a judge this year. Abuse of power for babysitting? May-fucking-be.

Carol twirled on of the faux flowers Van had given her, having too many for the breads of Europe stand, and she looked over her stall with Michonne. She looked down at all the happy puppies and reached into give them some loving before the kids and couples and other lonely souls like herself came. She was bitter but still she smiled. They were so cute with their squishy faces. How could she not?

Shawn knelt beside her. "Why not buy one? Michonne would give you a great deal, and you personally know the town vet."

She shook her head, resting the flower in her lap and signing. _My house is too small for a dog. I don't even have a backyard for them to play in, and the porch has glass railings. They would run into them a lot. It's just not ideal. _

"Get a new house," he mused.

_Right. Why didn't I think about that? _She chuckled and picked up her flower.

"I'm still thinking about it," he confessed. "I don't know when I'll have an answer, but I hope soon. I mean, Beth and Mags are gonna be back for the 4th, and I hope to know by then. I'm sorry. It's a lot to consider."

_For me, too. Take your time. I fully understand. If you have any questions, please ask._

"I haven't got any yet, but...I'll ask when or if they come to me." He smiled softly. "Hey, wanna sneak and get a snow cone with me? Just like old times?"

_You don't even have to ask. _She looped her arm through his and guided him over to the refreshment stand, checking the area for Tara, and she slipped inside after him. They stayed crouched down, Shawn blindly felt out the flavors, and Carol scooped out shaved ice. They worked quickly together to get the right amount of flavor and ice, and it wasn't until Shawn set the blue raspberry syrup back that he heard someone clear their throat. He winced at Carol and mouthed at her to run.

"Hey!" Tara called after them. "Seriously? Again?"

They ran away, Shawn grasped her hand and pulled her behind the merry-go-round, panting softly. Carol was trying not to laugh, and he listened to see if Tara had followed them. He poked his head out and saw her coming. He inhaled and took off towards the general store with Carol beside him. It was the only safe place right now.

He held the door open for Carol, and they dropped down onto the floor behind the shelves of flavored honey, chests heaving from the run and almost getting caught, and they exchanged a look before busting out laughing. Carol covered her mouth with her hand and was thrilled her snow cone had survived the journey, and Shawn crossed his legs, seeing part of his snow was gone, but he had a lot of lime and cherry flavoring.

"What are you kids doing?" Nadia carried out a tray of ham and cheese sliders for all the hungry folks who had to wake up early to set up their stands. She narrowed her eyes at their frozen treat and tssked at them. "You know those aren't for sale until later."

"I helped them set up," Shawn reminded her. "They said I could have one."

"Then why are you sweaty and out of breath?"

"We're both adults, and we can choose to run like hell away from the shouting sheriff if we want." He smirked when Carol looked at him and almost choked on her snow cone. He rubbed her back and coughed out his own laughter.

"You aren't right." She exited the store. "Don't spill on my floors!"

"Yes, ma'am!" He snorted and helped himself to his hard-won cone. "Do you think we should tell Tara I earn these and don't steal them?"

She shook her head.

"It's half the fun."

"What's going in here?" Dale followed the voices and found Carol and Shawn with blue and red lips respectfully on the floor, smiling innocently up at him and showing blue and red teeth. He shook his head. "Have you at least had breakfast?"

They nodded.

"Good. Then enjoy, and when you're done, come help me inflate that damn bounce house. No free jumps. It's for the kids." He wagged a finger at them. "You're adults. You can wait till the end of the day."

"The best part of being an adult is doing all the things your parents said no to as kids," Shawn replied. "I'll still help, but just know I may sneak in a bounce or two."

"Then I'll ask Daryl. He doesn't seem to know joy." Carol swallowed hard and looked up at Dale, and he noticed. "He's picking up his check is all."

She lowered her eyes and nodded, standing up to throw the paper cone away and see how blue her lips had become.

Shawn inhaled and cut a look at Dale. "What was that?"

"I don't think she or he know, and I've poked enough, so ask her." He threw his hands up and walked out of the store.

Shawn hummed and finished off his cone, climbing to his feet and going to meet Carol by the bathroom. He spotted movement in the back of the shop and waved to whoever was there, and the bathroom door opened at the same time as the back door, and Shawn peered over it to see Carol and Daryl standing close enough to breath each other's air.

"Morin'." Shawn smiled, not caring that his teeth looked like a crime scene.

"Yeah." He glanced at the man then did a double take of his mouth and then Carol's. "Y'all got into the syrup?"

"Snow cones, yeah." Shawn nodded. "I have to go help Dale inflate a bounce house, but you two are welcome to continue this conversation without me."

"I'm outta here, just had to get my check." He cleared his throat. "Excuse me."

Shawn moved aside and cut a look to Carol, and she shook her head at him. "Hey, wait, man." Carol punched his arm, and he sent her a glare before catching up to Daryl. "You won't stay? It's a lot of fun here. We have food and drinks, and most of its free with a pass. It's only thirty bucks."

"I'm good. I gotta...scrape some paint off my floor." He glanced back at Carol before pulling the door open and walking through it.

"We really need to talk about your type," Shawn mused when Carol approached, but she didn't stop by him. She walked out the door after Daryl. "And manners, too, apparently."

Carol hurried out the door after him, but the fair had just opened, and people were pouring in. She looked around for some way to get to higher ground, but all the chairs had been moved and claimed by stall owners. She bit her bottom lip and dropped her arms to her side.

"There you are." Enid ran up to Carol and grasped her arm. "C'mon, c'mon! You have to come with me."

She didn't have a chance to reply as the girl jerked her into motion, they weaved through the crowd, and Enid. Enid led her back to Hershel and Annette's stall, and Carol assumed she wanted a snack or something, but she wanted to hold a goat. She had to get an adult to do it, and Carol couldn't help but smile at her. She let her pick the goat out, and Carol carefully lifted the baby girl out and let Enid pet her before.

Carol helped her support the weight of the baby goat when Enid held her, and Denise was begging from the dunking booth to talk Enid out of wanting a goat. They weren't ready for any type of pet, and a goat was not the go-to. Carol giggled and stroke the goat's head carefully, and Enid was so in love. It might have been too late, but Carol had to admit this was precious. She dug her phone out of her pocket and took a picture of Enid with the goat, and she would sent it to Tara later. It was too sweet of a moment to not record.

Carol looked up when Noah joined them, and the normally bickering siblings were calm. Noah asked to hold the goat, and Enid told him the same thing Carol told her, and they were very gentle. Carol smiled and took another picture, her chest tightening at the happiness on those precious faces. She couldn't wait to do this with her own family. She didn't know when exactly that'd be, but she knew it would come when it was right. If Shawn said yes, she would wait until she and her cottage were ready. Or possibly move into a bigger place. If he said yes, her savings would be untouched, so it was possible. Her, a new place and the baby? They would have so many memories there. She could hardly wait.

Carol placed the goat back inside the pin with the others, Enid and Noah held hands to stay together and headed off to find any sugar possible, and Carol awkwardly stood by the pin, unsure of what to do next. She brushed her arm off and decided to check and see how Michonne was doing. She knew she'd gotten Tara to watch her stall while she did a few things with Andre, and maybe Carol could catch them in the middle of those things. If she knew Andrea, he was probably dying for cotton candy and the tea cup ride.

She wandered through the fair, offering a small smile to the people she knew and the people who smiled first. She loved to be in crowds. Well, sometimes. She had a bit of anxiety in her blood, but there was something that overcame it in moments like this. Being a part of the crowd, seeing that child-like wonder and excitement zing from person to person. Having the same laughter at all the cute animals, going for seconds on the same yummy foods, taking picture after picture to cement this moment in your life. It made the anxiety shrivel, and she felt so alive. She almost for the loneliness stalking in the shadows to claim her, and she spotted a familiar blue Spider man shirt.

She lightly pushed through the people block her way, signing an apology to those who would understand and waving to get Andre's attention, but he was playing with a water gun. She noticed another boy running after him, and it was Carl Grimes. They were tagging each other with the water guns, groaning dramatically as if they'd truly been shot, and Andre went down after his gun was emptied. Carol's heart melted when Carl went to his side, feigning grief as he never meant to hurt his best friend, but things just got complicated. She had to cut through the train choo-chooing by, but she would save time and not lose them.

She shielded her eyes from the sunlight and noticed the boys standing up, looking at someone she couldn't see. She tensed up some at the sight of Rick grinning at the boys, and her guts twisted when Michonne joined him a few feet behind. She wouldn't have been bothered it normally. They were both single parents with boys about the same age, and they knew each other, because it was a small town. It was normal and fine for them to hang out at the fair, but what really stung was Michonne standing so close to Rick when they had plenty of space to move in. What really stung was how she smiled at Rick, and what fucking cut into her was when the boys were shouting about rides and Rick grasped her hand. She read his lips and mentioned it was to not get lost in the crowd. In any kind of defense, he also took Carl's hand, and Carl took a hold of Andre's hand. They all...strolled off like one happy family.

She stumbled back and turned away, allowing the crowd to move her to anywhere but there.

––

Daryl chewed on his thumbnail, looking out at the fair from his truck, Spike going to town on the corn dog Daryl had given him. He wanted to leave, but he'd gotten trapped by two to the cars, and he could easily walk home and get the truck tomorrow, but he couldn't get the image of Carol coming after him out of the store from his mind. He didn't mean to look back, but he did, and then he lost her in that mess of people. He wasn't going swimming today, no way.

He looked over at Spike who as chewing on the stick to the corn dog, he reached over and pried it out of his teeth, and Spike grumbled at him. He didn't bring a leash for Spike, and he would definitely get lost in all the people. He would look for Carol or Dale. Hell, he might go after that turkey leg wrapped in bacon and deep fried. Daryl might, too, because it smelled so damn good. This whole area smelled so good, but he wasn't a crowd person. He also didn't ant Dale or Nadia to find him and make him join in on the pie throwing contest or whatever. He just had to get home. It was easier said than done when the pet store was closed, and Spike didn't know what the hell a leash was.

He blew out a sigh and slipped out of the car, leaving Spike behind with the window down. He threw away the stick to the corn dog and looked over the amount of people gathered. He was already physically drained at the thought of going through that, and he couldn't add the dog into it. The little runt was social and would run off to greet the kids and the adults. He couldn't survive that emotionally, so he would just have to either hole in the store until this was over or risk his entire and already drained social interaction bar. He already had regrets about leaving his house, and he was right to. Christ, this town couldn't calm down for a second, could it?

He sat down on a bucket and rubbed his jaw, trying not to attract any attention, and he spotted Michonne and Rick by the face painting booth with their boys. He could tell by her body language there was more going on between them than friends with same-age kids. He had thought as much since they first met, but then he heard Carol was with Rick, and he thought maybe he'd been wrong, but no. He hadn't been. He really hoped Carol didn't see it. He didn't know what he felt about her, but she didn't deserve to see her best friend and her ex-boyfriend getting close through their sons and shared experiences. She also didn't deserve his comment behind her back. He did learn just to understand her, but he couldn't bear someone throwing that back in his face, so the asshole appeared. God, he hated that about himself. It just felt like they were mocking him, and cut too close to the bone. After two years, he ought to realize that wasn't the case. It seldom was in this town.

He rested his head against the building behind him and closed his eyes, tuning out the sounds of the people and the music and the entirity of the fair. He didn't want to face the noise. If he just sat here a moment, he'd figure a way out of this place without holding up in the store. If he could tune out that annoying carny tune, he'd be good...

The world titled sideways as Daryl fell, and he came to, heart racing, vision blurred, and he gripped the wall behind him. He blinked several times, seeing the events of the fair still playing out, and nobody had noticed him. Good, because he was sure what he just did wasn't a pretty picture. Fuck, did he scrape his nails? Ahh, he didn't mean to fall asleep, but he slept for shit last night, so it made sense he passed out. What was the time?

He patted himself down for his phone and dug it out of his front pocket, seeing it was one in the afternoon now. He rolled his eyes and climbed to his feet, exhaling a yawn and hearing a commotion to the left of him. He knew almost immediately what was going on, and he wished he hadn't left the windows to his car down. That dog was such a handful.

Although not the handful he expected as a baby goat, Spike and Carol ran by. Carol was the real mystery, and he would reserve laughter for later. He really hoped Spike wasn't trying to eat the goat, but he'd have tackle him down to stop him if he was going to try. He ran after them, hearing Annette calling after them, and he tossed a wave over his shoulder, speeding up as the trio ahead of moved towards the creek. He really needed to start listening to the voice inside his head telling him to stay inside. Goddamn it.

The baby goat—Buster—hauled ass away from the dog, Spike continued the chase, and the two humans weren't catching up with the dog and goat, but Daryl had caught up to Carol. She glanced at him, and he saw a downhill slope coming. This helped no one. Buster tripped, Spike lunged at him, and Carol wanted to yell at him to stop, and Daryl saw the creek waiting for them at the bottom. He slowed his run and grabbed Carol by the waist to keep gravity and force from knocking her face first into the shallow bed, and Spike snapped his jaws shut on Buster.

Daryl nearly collapsed holding Carol, her hands covering her face in fear of what Spike might have done, and Daryl panted loudly, his lungs burning along with his legs. This was no way to wake up. He would leave the damn dog at home next time.

Spike trotted over to them with Buster in his mouth, Daryl smirked at the little asshole, and he carefully peeled off Carol's hands. She jumped out of his arms at the sight of Spike holding Buster by the sweater Annette had made for him. She hugged him tightly, so glad he hadn't tried to eat Buster, and Spike dropped the goat quicker than shit for affections.

"Easy." Daryl caught the goat, who looked frazzled. "Hey, it's all right."

"Are you all right?" Annette was at the top of the slope, shouting down to them.

"Mostly," Daryl called back. "We'll be right up."

She nodded and asked Shawn to go and get them some water and a first aid kit just in case. Daryl collected the goat and tucked it under his arm, Carol climbed to her feet and dusted her pants off, and Spike ran up to greet Annette. Carol smiled at the sweet puppy and banished her horrible thoughts of Spike going after Buster for a snack or something, and Daryl set a hand on her elbow, asking without words if she was okay.

_I'm fine._ Her hands were shaking from the rush of adrenaline, and she started up the slope after Spike.

They made it easily to the top, Hershel took Buster for a scolding and to be returned to his siblings, Enid and Noah had claimed Spike, and Annette looked them over for any injuries. Aside from some dirt and grass stains, they were all right. She thanked them both for going after the trouble making runt, and she had to not laugh as they gulped down the bottles of water Shawn brought them. She offered them a free slice of pie and headed back to assure any onlookers it was all okay now.

"What the hell happened?" Daryl took her empty bottle and tossed it into the recycle bin along with his, dropping onto a bench outside the general store.

Carol sat beside him and tucked hair behind her ea_r. Spike joined us a few hours ago and kept me company. I suppose he caught wind of Buster and wanted to put him back with the others. I don't really know how that part happened, because I was trying to get Spike a bone. When I turned around, they were running, so I went after them. You know the rest._

"How'd the goat get out?"

_Beats me. _She peered at him. _He escaped early this morning, and I think Otis went to find him, but he had no luck. I guess Spike was the one we should asked from the start. Thank him for me, okay?_

"You can thank him. He isn't going anywhere."

_Does that mean...you instead to stay? At the fair, I mean._ She searched his eyes. _There are still plenty of fresh baked goods and an eating contest._

"I...might as well. Those kids stole my dog." He saw Enid and Noah had vanished. "What're you up to right now?"

_Aside from recovering from the most exercise I've gotten since dragging you out of a lake? Let me think on it. _She smiled softly at him.

"Fine then. Let's get some food. I'm starving." He stood up and nodded his head towards the festivities. "Show me around."

_Do you want a bacon-wrapped turkey leg? _She hopped up_. I could really go for one._

"You read my mind." He fell into step beside her. "They got any beer?"

She put her hands on her hips and walked ahead of him.

"C'mon, that ain't fair. I need beer with my turkey legs." He caught up to her and lightly grasped her arm. "Is there at least anything that isn't pure sugar?"

She smiled once more and grasped his hand, pulling him into the crowd, and he waited for the dread to sink in. They moved from the vendor who sold them two turkey legs to a makeshift bar, where Carol got them two waters, and he wrangled up a picnic table. There were so many families and tourists around them, and he kept waiting to feel miserable, but it hadn't broken the surface just yet. He watched Carol tell him about the first time they attempted to fry the turkey leg, and he reached over and stilled her hands.

"I know you gotta be hungry. Tell me about it later."

She blushed somewhat and watched him just bit into the leg like a barbarian. She had picked up a fork and knife to help eat this bad boy, but she took a page from his book. She picked it up and bit into it, and it wasn't as easy as he made it look. She felt the grease smear across her nose and cheeks, and he busted out laughing at her expression. She wrinkled her nose at him and didn't bother to wipe her mouth, chewing awkwardly at the meat stuck in her teeth.

"That's good, real good." He handed her a napkin, and she ignored it, taking another huge bite. He ran his tongue over his teeth and helped himself to his leg.

Carol couldn't help but bubble over with laughter and joy, and Daryl asked her what she was laughing at. She couldn't even begin to explain where the laughter came from, but she knew it had to do with him. The air around them was different, and Carol was thrilled it was for the better. He hadn't apologized for his asshole assumptions, but she knew that kind of self-protection. It was dangerous, and it can cause some already wounded people to be triggered, but she understood it. She'd been there herself, but she found her way out. She didn't know if he would let her, but she'd help him find his way out, too. As thanks for not letting her smack into a creek bed.

They finished eating and cleaned off with wet wipes Shawn tossed at them, Carol thanked him and showed Daryl around the fair. He wasn't into most of it, but he did win a few games. He didn't want the prizes and let any child nearby claim it. Carol thought it was wonderful, but he just handed the toy over and walked off. She didn't know if he really didn't care or if he didn't know what do with gratitude, but she'd figure it out sooner or later.

They walked around and played games, Carol had half of her cotton candy mouse stolen, and it didn't help that the mouse was already a shoddy mess. Daryl jokingly bit some off and took half of it with him. He looked as surprised as she did, and she let him have the rest of it. He tried to apologize, but she went to get some nachos instead. He dumped the stick and went after her, and she spotted Michonne and Carl by the dunking booth. She dropped her eyes to the counter, Daryl knew Michonne was nearby and blocked Carol's body with his own. He looked weird as hell, stretching like he did, but he got a smile out of Carol and avoided an awkward situation. It was a win in his book.

He held the nachos so she could talk, and she seemed to be having a really good time. He couldn't believe how forgiving she was, and he felt guilt clawing at him. They'd spent this entire evening tonight, and he didn't apologize or anything for his behavior. He just...let it go, but not anymore. He wasn't going to let it go or have her swallow he words to keep peace. No, it wasn't right. She'd shown him a great time after he verbally abused her practically yesterday. No, he had to speak up before this was over.

"Car—"

Overhead fireworks suddenly exploded, Carol lifted her eyes at the crowd looking up, and she lightly smacked his arm, pointing at the red sparks. He looked up with her, seeing how excited she was for them, and he wondered which were her favorite. He didn't care much for fireworks. They were very nice to look at, but her enthusiasm for them was much more appealing. Her eyes were sparking, almost as much as the explosion above them. Those vast blues almost seem to reflect the temporary beauty glistening in the night sky. The orange began to burn against the night sky, shimmering in her eyes as she drank in the sparks, and he couldn't look away from her. He lost time in those eyes, and he didn't care how much. It'd been worth it.

Carol dug her nails into his arm, still holding onto it, and he managed to tear his eyes off her to see the grand finale. He knew then this was a her favorite, and he could see why. It was colorful and had several fireworks going at once. They even had a few shapes beyond the explosion path, and it pretty cool. He felt her move closer, in awe of the explosions above them, and he felt fur against his ankles as Spike settled between their legs. They watched the finale togther, and there were hopes blooming in his rib cage like flowers that this wouldn't be the last thing they did or watched together.

After the fireworks were over, the fair was closed. Daryl and Carol stuck around to help clean up, but Tara told them she hired people to do this, because it was so brutal last year. She thanked them for participating and told them to get home safe.

Carol looked for Michonne and Andre, but Annette told her Rick had given them a ride home. She tried not show the pangs those words sent through her, and Daryl reminded her of the dessert they'd earned. She handed over her contest winning pie, and Carol lauded her for the win. Daryl scrounged up a couple forks, and they sat in the back of his truck. Carol had nowhere else to be, and Daryl didn't want the night to end just yet.

"Damn, that's good." Daryl hadn't expected it to still be warm and chewy.

Carol agreed with a nod and took another forkful.

Spike settled on the tarp they all shared and peered at them with big eyes, knowing he wasn't going to get any pie, but he could still watch.

Daryl picked at the pie instead of eating another bite, Carol shifted beside him and wondered what was wrong, and he lowered the glass dish between them. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and set the fork down inside the pan, minding her half of it.

"I...owe you an apology." He inhaled deeply. "I was an incredible ass to you back at my house. I know you aren't trying to get a low price for Michonne. I know you weirdly don't have any anterior motives. I know you're actually one of the good ones, but I'm not. I don't know what to do with your kindness, and I don't know what you want for it. Or from me. I know you probably don't want anythin', but everyone I've ever met has, and I can't help but fall back on old habits."

Carol set her fork down and started to sign, but he lowered her hands.

"Wait, just...let me say what I gotta say, okay?"

She nodded.

"I... My life hasn't been great, and I don't know how to approach people. I'll be honest. I don't. Half of the people I met, I met through my brother, and now I don't have that. I... I just have me, and I've tried rebuildin' myself, to be better, to be...hell, smarter, but it isn't easy. I've only had Spike to work with, and then all of sudden you're here. And you want to be in my life for no other reason other than to support me, and I don't know what to do with that. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?" He sounded so defeated. "I never want to hurt you, but I can't help that I will. I'm not a friendly person, you gotta know that."

Carol rolled her eyes.

"What? You think you know me?" He narrowed his eyes, but he was chewing on his inner lip. "Do you?"

_You're too hard on yourself, you know. You have this big, bad image of yourself for some reason or another, and it's wrong. You aren't a terrible person. You aren't doomed for destruction. Or doomed to destroy others. You just never found yourself. _She searched his eyes and smiled. _You're in the wrong shoes, Daryl, and you never looked for the right pair, have you? I know it seems stupid, but you're...like a kid. You're impulsive and don't take advise, and you're so stubborn. You don't listen to anyone, really, and it shows._

_But you're so wrong about yourself. You are thoughtful and friendly. In small ways that has added up, and people can trust you. People lean on you, and just because you make mistakes doesn't mean you've erased that trust. You need to start bettering yourself from the inside. You need to be kinder to yourself. Life is brutal, trust me on that, and you'll always have yourself, so don't be a dick to yourself. Or other people if they didn't start it._

"You make it sound easy."

_Then stop listening,_ she suggested. _Look more. Think more._

"That's easy for you to say." He felt cold sweat run down his back at those words, and he stammered. "I—I—Fuck, Carol, I didn't mean that."

She smiled at him. I_ know you didn't mean anything by it, and you don't have to be so conscious of my deafness. It's a part of who I am; it's not all of me. _

"You're so forgiving. How?"

_I'm only forgiving to the ones who can better themselves, who I know will be worth forgiving in the long run. Don't prove me wrong, or you'll regret it. _

"I won't prove you wrong. If I can help it."

_Daryl._

"What? You want me to be a lair on top of everything?"

She laughed softly. E_at your pie and shush. You're going to ruin the moment._

"Oh, is that what we're having? A moment?" He smirked at her, digging into the pie again, and he gagged. "Oh, God."

Carol shook her head and stood up, climbing over the edge of the truck, and Daryl followed on the other side, both of them meeting at the hood of the truck. Carol crossed her arms and met his eyes, and he was trying not to laugh. She smacked him lightly but fell into the laughter with him. They decided to take the pie over to the bench away from Spike and his turkey farts.


	8. Scratching At The Surface

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

Carol was heading over to Daryl's house that next week with the bat she'd won for his nephew. She meant to bring it around sooner, but she'd gotten caught up at work and mostly forgot she had it. She'd left it in her car last night for this moment, and now that she was off work, it was getting done. She just had to lock out and drive there.

Michonne was counting down the drawers in the office, and Carol knocked on the door. She lifted her head and flashed a grin at her. "Hey, you look cute."

She felt cute today. She let her hair be nature and worked with the waves to look like natural yet artificial curls, and she'd thrown on her favorite red tank top and matching cardigan. The dark jeans were the only thing clean from the dryer, so it was a win. She hadn't bothered with makeup, though. Maybe next time. It wasn't like she had someone to impress. Not really.

"Got a hot date?" Michonne was teasing, but honestly it'd be nice to hear a yes.

_Not quite. I'm going to stop by Daryl's to give him a toy for his nephew. _She sat down beside Michonne and tucked hair behind her ear. _I just have to ask you something._

"If I think you and Daryl are a mistake, it's a yes. He's a drifter with a lease. I love you, but that's my honest opinion."

_It wasn't about Daryl, but I'll take that into consideration should I pursue a relationship with him. _She cleared her throat and locked her eyes in Michonne's. _This might seem like a weird question, but is there anything going on between you and Rick?_

Michonne nearly dropped the half-full roll of quarters and stammered, blinking in surprise. "What?"

_Just answer the question, Mich, please._ It took sheer willpower to not avert her eyes. _Honestly._

"We...have talked lately. I mean, we have kids. I mean, we have boys who are nearly the same age, and we bump into each other a lot. Carl and Andre have similar interests. If someone's talking, don't listen to it. We are...sort of friendly, but I wouldn't do that to you."

_Do you like him in that way? You can be honest. I want you to be honest, and it's okay if you do. He is very attractive and thoughtful. And you both have a lot in common, like you said. Attraction can't be help, you know. In some case it should not only be helped, but avoided. This isn't one one of those times, though, so if you—_

"No, shut up." She averted her eyes and returned to her count. "You're being...weird. We're just two parents with kids who are friends. That's all. I promise."

Carol let her hands loudly drop to her lap and nodded, standing up and leaving to go meet Daryl. She glanced back at Michonne and waved with a smile. Michonne returned it, and Carol departed. She wasn't buying it, but she wouldn't mention it now. She had other people to occupy her mind. Like the nephew she was so going to see a picture of. She loved kids—clearly—and she wanted to put a face to the name. She hoped he had pictures since his walls were so bare. It was a wonder were all his personal belongings were. She'd have to ask him. Surely he had more than just a few pictures taped to his fridge, right?

At the house Carol was greeted by Spike who was running around the front yard, and Daryl was transferring plants from black plastic holders into the garden on either side of the steps. She hugged and kissed Spike, being tackled almost by the lovey boy, and Daryl called him off so she couldn't end up on the ground with his tongue licking off her face. She joined him by the fresh scent of earth and inhaled deeply, smiling a greeting.

"Hey." He squinted over at her. "Didn't expect you so soon."

_Oh? When did you expect me?_ She reached out and touched the earth, pressing on it lightly to secure the newly transferred flower.

"Dunno, but not when I'm sweatin' and plantin' flowers. I gotta smell like dirt and BO by now." He scooped out the last of the hyacinths and measured it as instructed. "Wind's gonna pick up, and you'll regret it."

She rolled her eyes, because she'd already caught a whiff of him. He smelled of rich earth and spice, nothing gross there at all. She wanted to take the bat from her car and whack him with it, but she wanted to know what he was growing. She was an herb girl, not a flower girl. The last time she tried to grow flowers, some animal would eat them by the time they bloomed, and she'd been left with a massacred garden. So indoor herd garden built into her kitchen wall was a go. All thanks to the Internet for the idea and Shawn for the heavy lifting. She painted them, though, but that hardly counted. She needed a crafting skill. Maybe he'd teach her something.

_What are you planting here? _She looked over the temporary pots, but they were slightly chewed thanks to the beauty rolling around in the grass behind them.

"Hyacinths and hydrangeas," he replied. "When they bloom next year, it'll be more natural and fill in the spaces. It'll look real good, 'cause of how the different hues of blue cause a pop in color. It'll bring in a buyer."

_Wow, you know a lot about flowers. Do you like gardening? _She inched closer, crouching down and looking over the little bulbs. _What colors did you get? Aside from blue?_

"Mostly blue, but I snagged a couple violet and white. It'll match the outside color of the house." He peeked at her face and confessed, "When I was real little...my mom used to have a garden. We shoulda work on it together."

_Aww, how sweet. Were you just little chubby little kid with overralls and big cheeks? _She grinned at the idea. _Did she teach you everything she knew? Like the color popping and stuff?_

"Nah, she was terrible at it. She couldn't grow shit." He snorted a laugh. "She wanted to be able to grow flowers, but she either drowned them, planted 'em too close to the surface or...trampled on them by accident. She'd always gripe about it, so I just took over for her. I moved the garden to the side of the house where there was more sun, and we had a couple rose bushes for a while. I...I lied and told her she did all the work. She was happy."

_H—how could she be happy? She would have known she didn't do anything. You did all the work, and that was very sweet of you. You must have been a favorite. _

"She liked wine." Daryl pressed earth on the soil and stared hard at the brown and blue and green before him. "She was drunk a lot, so it was easy to lie to her."

_That's so sad. She must have missed a lot of your childhood._ Her lips curved downward, a sorrow to the entire action, and she stood up. _I hate drunks. I don't mean any offense to you or your mom, but... God, it's not fair to the people around them, you know? To the people who love them? It breaks my heart._

"Yeah, I guess." He rose and dusted his hands together. "Want some iced tea?"

_I would love some, but let me run to my car real quick. I'll meet you inside. _

They parted ways and met back up in the kitchen. Spike was stretched out on the cool floor, Daryl washed his hands and scrubbed the dirt out from under his nails, and Carol posed in the doorway with the baseball bat. It was mostly wasted as he was busy trying to clean out his nails, eyes blank as he looked down at his hands, and Carol was almost scared of the emptiness there.

Daryl jolted at a hand touching him and looked over at Carol who's frown had returned. "Tea. Just gimme a sec. Have a seat."

She nodded and sat down at the table, watching him turn the water off and dry his hands. She set the bat on the table and made a face at Spike, who instantly wagged his tail. She gasped softly in an excited tone, and he was on her like white on rice. She giggled as he kissed her face and playfully ruffed in her face for more back scratches. She loved this boy so much. She would steal him and give him sweet kisses every day if she didn't like his owner and if his owner didn't treat him like a little prince, because he was. Yes, he was.

She scratched his chin and gazed at Daryl's back. And if this little guy wasn't Daryl's only companionship when she wasn't around.

"Here." He joined her at the table, eyes on the stuffed bat and snorting a laugh. "The hell is that?"

_This is for Peter. _She lightly tapped the bat and grinned. _If he isn't a sports kind of kid, he can just smack people with it. Annoying, but yeah, it won't hurt._

"I—I'm sorry, who?" He had no idea what she just signed. He'd watched more videos to help him with it, but he'd fall asleep through them.

_Your nephew. Your brother's son? _She studied him to see if he understood, and the light went off, because he nodded and started to smile appreciatively. _I won it at the fair, but I don't have any kids to give it to. Andre got his own from his mom, so I wanted to give Peter something. A gift from his uncle's friend._

"He actually loves baseball. That's too funny." He picked it up. "I dunno when I'll see him next, but he'll love it."

_You don't see a lot of him, do you?_ She sipped her tea. It was a raspberry black tea, and she knew then Nadia had been by sometime. This was her all-time favorite drink of Nadia's, and she could have chugged it down went back for his. But she'd have some self-control. For now.

"Nah, his mom and I don't see eye to eye. I remind her too much of my brother for some reason, and I move around a lot. I get it, but it sucks. He's, like, my only family, and I wish I got more time with him." He set it down on the table. "I'll call him and let him know he's gotta gift waitin' for him from a friend."

_You don't have to mention me. _

"Yeah, I do. He'll know I didn't win it. I ain't a fair person, and this still smells like funnel cake." He straightened in his chair. "It's real nice of you to get this for him. You barely know me, and him not at all, so thanks."

_If you don't mind me asking, do you have a picture of him? _She wanted to ask what he meant about Peter's mom and him and also that "like the only family" comment. She wanted to know what might have happened to his brother, but they weren't in that place yet. She hoped to be there soon, but it was heavy. She knew it would be. It was similar to her...past. She didn't want to drudge that up, so he likely didn't want to either. Maybe one day.

"Uhh, sure, hang on." He dug his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through the sample pictures and the work-related items, trying to find the picture of Peter sent to him when school let out. "Shit, I gotta delete this crap."

He found the picture of him and turned the phone over to show Carol, she carefully accepted his phone and saw those Dixon eyes. She smiled and found him to be adorable. He had to look more like his father than the woman she knew was his mother pictured with him with those curly dark locks and strong chin. He would be a handsome man, but for now, he was a cutie. She hoped to meet him one day and get a feel for the face. His distinct energy, another piece of who he was. Carol liked to collect pieces, to bring them together and make them whole. She'd done that for herself, so she liked to do that for others if she could.

She handed the phone back. _He's beautiful._

"A good-lookin' kid," Daryl murmured, something his brother used to say. "Why do you want to meet him, though? I mean...why?"

_I like meeting people, I suppose. I get to see and meet a variety that come through town, and I liked to expand my social circle. I... I never had much luck with people when I was younger, and I think I'm making up for that now. _She paused and searched his eyes. _Do you want me to not meet him? If it's too awkward, let me know. I don't have to. It's one hundred percent up to you. If the opportunity comes and you don't feel comfortable with it, don't. It's okay. I... I don't want to be pushy. I'm sorry if I am._

"Nah, you ain't too bad. Met worse." He fished out a piece of ice and handed it over to Spike.

_Oh, but I am pushy?_

"Yeah," he bobbed his head in agreement, "you are."

She laughed.

"And you've hit me a couple times, too." He couldn't help his laughter when she lightly hit him the exact moment he spoke, and she apologized, promising to stop. "You hit like a kid, can barely feel it."

_That's hurtful. _She drank her tea and smirked at him, trying not to laugh again, because she'd choke.

Daryl chuckled and rubbed his cheek, peeking at her and wondering if this was what friendship was—laughing together over little traits and good to laugh at qualities? He wasn't sure, but he liked it. The laughing, the way her eyes lit up, the smile that formed on her lips. It was nice, real nice, and he wanted to touch the curves her mouth formed.

_What? _Carol moved hair from her face and noticed he was still staring at her. _Did I just spit on you? God, that's embarrassing. _She brought a hand to her mouth and hoped she hadn't.

"No, no, you didn—you didn't spit." He cleared his throat and tried not to blush at being a major idiot. That thought wasn't friendly, and it wasn't going be a reality. Jesus, he went over this with Dale, with himself and with the dog. It wasn't happening. He'd be stupid to make that mistake. He'd never had someone so close, and sex would destroy everything, especially since there was no fucking way she wanted him like that. She'd said over and over she wanted to be friends—**friends**. That's all. He'd accept that and try. So he needed to stop ogling her like she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

_Hey, you know about the Fourth of July BBQ at the Chamblers? _Carol crossed her legs. _It's always a great time with so much food. You might want to come. I'm not asking or going to make you. I just thought you'd want to. You liked the fair._

_I liked you, _he thought to himself but wordlessly nodded. "What's it like?"

_Well, if you don't come, I suppose I should tell you what you're missing. _A teasing smile ghosted over her lips, and he drank from his cup to repress his idiot brain and its giggly smirk. _There's tables loaded with snacks and side dishes for the main meal, and there's more food on the grill. There's drinks and dancing. There's a games and some prizes. We try and eat together, but it hardly works outs. We do all eat dessert together and built a fire pit while the kids play with sparklers. We talk about the June fair and what to do for next year. We... we just get to be a big family, and it's a great time. Oh, and there's a pool this year. They finally got it installed._

"Christ, how big is her backyard?" He shook his head.

_It's massive. They wanted a huge one for the pool and the kids they'd adopt one day, but it happened in reverse. Don't worry, though. There's plenty of space for running away. _

"Good 'cause if I do, I intend to drink and run."

She pressed her lips together and glanced down at Spike, who rested his head in her lap. _Answer me honestly. Are you lonely?_

He gulped down the drink of tea he'd taken, ice and all, and he ran his eyes over her face. "Why do you ask?"

_Because I asked._

He sighed loudly. "Not really. I like being alone here." Spike huffed at him. "Alone with my dog."

She smiled faintly at Spike but frowned at him. _You hurt my heart, Daryl._

"I'm...uh, I'm sorry?" He didn't know how to answer that. "I don't mean to."

_I wasn't blaming you for that. I just...want you to be happy, not lonely, and I feel like you lock yourself in this house away from the world. I know it's a rough world, but you deserve to live in it. To find happiness in it. Maybe love. I'm not saying you have to, but you deserve to. In your own time._

"Yeah, me and love just ain't...possible." He looked down into the dark liquid in his cup. "I attract people like me, and people like me just... don't work out."

_It doesn't have to be that way. I mean, you attracted me. _She leaned forward towards him. _We aren't that much alike from what I can tell._

"I...erm, meant relationship-wise," he informed her. "Like...my ex."

Her mouth formed an O then she sat back and scratched neck nervously. _I'm sorry. I thought you just meant in general._

"You mention love." He lifted his cup. "Never known it, hope never to."

_You've never been in love? _Her brows shot up, astounded, and her eyes shimmered in a way he didn't like. _Not ever?_

"Kinda what never means." He shrugged a shoulder. "I'm fine with it. It's my life, like you probably mentioned, so let's just get back to work."

Carol wanted to talk more on that, but he pulled out a couple bags with scrapers and paint remover. She finished her drink and followed him to the living room, shaking her head at him and his way of thinking. She wished she could show him how good love was. How amazing and filling it felt. How it could change you. It wasn't just about romantic love; it was about love outside his blood, and how that could almost be better for you. Honestly, brotherly love made him a bitter man, so maybe she could help un-make the bitter parts of him. It would make more elbow grease than this floor, but she'd give it a shot.

They worked silently for about an hour when Daryl heard a sharp hiss, instantly tossing a glance to Spike, but he was chilling on the couch. He pushed himself to be sitting back on his heels and saw Carol was cradling her hand. He shot up and saw blood dripping onto the wood. Her index finger was sliced all the way down. He wanted to rattle her. He told her not to put her other hand down near the blade. He also told her not to use the fucking scraper. He could replace scratched or faded floorboards, and he didn't mind to, but he didn't want her messing around with sharp tools and these fumes. He'd made that mistake and tried to pay it forward, but whatever.

They ended up in the kitchen, warm water running over Carol's finger, and Daryl was digging through the drawers for the first aid kit Nadia have given him. Carol felt like a fool and tried to will her finger to stop bleeding, but she'd knicked it pretty good. She'd just have to suffer, humiliated, by her own doing and wait.

"God damn, it's still bleeding." He set the first aid kit down on the counter and shook his head. "Shoulda listened to me."

_It wasn't coming off_, she protested, signing through the water and causing her finger to bleed a little faster. _I lightly—_

"See, you're just lyin' to me now." He shook his head. "You don't say lightly and have a cut like that."

_Fine, I added a lot of my weight to the damn thing, and I regret it. Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted to hear?_

"I want you to trust me when I ask you do something." He squeezed on her finger, and she winced. "Sorry."

She could only squeeze her eyes shut and silently cuss.

He looked at her closed eyes and heaved a sigh. "Not the body fluid I wanted on my hands." He shook his head and pushed that thought away—again—and tended to her wound. He'd gotten proficient at wrapping cuts due to his childhood and clumsy start, so he had her disinfected, ointmented and wrapped in about five minutes.

"You're welcome." He stopped her from trying to sign. "Just...try and not talk."

Her nose sneered at the idea.

"I said try." A smile danced in his eyes, amusement on his lips, and he ducked his head. "Seriously, try."

She set a hand on his arm to get his attention, he swept his head up, and she pointed to the door.

"Oh, you're gonna leave?" The smile vanished instantly, and he bit his lip.

She shook her head and held up her hand.

"Y...you need a hand outside?"

She shook her head again and wiggled her fingers.

"I don't get—Oh! You're gonna step out for five minutes." She nodded, and he felt like a moron. "All right, yeah, take Spike. If you want. He'll probably follow you, though."

She shrugged and stepped outside with Spike on her heels, and she pulled the door closed while Daryl cleared the counter. He trashed the wrappers and moved to the study to peek out the window at her and Spike, and he smiled to himself at the sight of them. He might not have love or a relationship, but he was happy. He was happy here with them, and while it was mixed up in his head, he would only be friends with Carol. Honestly, it was for the best. He'd leave once this house was finished, and she would likely have a new man by that time. They would both move on. All he had to do was stop being attracted her, which Dale made impossible with all his comments. Also which Carol made impossible by looking good all the time. And if she looked average in jeans and a t-shirt, she still had a fantastic body. He could hardly keep his eyes to himself, and he felt like an asshole, because they were friends. Or getting there, and he'd been such a jackass to her up until this point. He had no right to stare, but Jesus H, did she own any jeans that were baggy? Would it kill her to wear loose jeans? He always thought he was a boob man, but then he met her. He had no clue what kind of man he was anymore.

– – –

Night had settled over the their town, the night sky shining with stars and a lovely quarter moon. Michonne checked in on her son and his new best friend, seeing they were still passed out on his bed, laid out side by side but Andre's feet were by Carl's head and vice versa, so they had rolling room. It wasn't the largest bed in the world, but they were both small boys. They both slept like rocks so far. She'd have to remembered the water park next time Andre was rowdy, because she'd never had such an easy time putting him to bed before now.

She pulled the door shut, letting the Spiderman nightlight fill the room and closing off any outside noise. She didn't mind if one or both of them woke up, but she didn't want the day to be over. It'd only really began a few hours ago, and it'd been great to get out and play with the boys. She hadn't expected the water park to be so much fun. It was just like a normal park for playing with no actual pools or slides or anything, but water ran through the play sets and ran down on unsuspecting mothers who were lured over to the slide by scheming children. She'd been laughed at so hard before, but she paid them back, and then she was laughing so hard.

She sat down on the couch and accepted back her glase of rose zfrom Rick, pulling her legs in and smiling as she told him the boys were still asleep. "I guess this has turned into a slumber party."

He chuckled. "Yeah, it has."

"Don't worry. If you want to sleep here too, Andre has a Spiderman sleeping bag. You can probably fit one leg into it."

"Wow, one whole leg? That's... that's so tempting." She laughed, and he couldn't resist joining her. "I—I don't know what to say. I'm flattered, though. Very flattered."

She drank from her glass and propped her arm on the back of the couch, cheek resting against her knuckles. "I know it's difficult to hear about Lori moving on and having another child, but it's just a part of life. We all move on at some point, and we change. It can't be helped. I know that doesn't make it easier, because you love her, but you'll come a point where you're okay with it. You might even want to meet the baby."

He inhaled deeply. "I've met her husband before. We all had dinner while her mom watched Carl, and he's a good guy. I like him and trust him with both Carl and Lori, but...I never thought we'd come to that point, you know? The divorce, the move, the...rapid changes." He swallowed and looked down into the pink liquid in his glass. "Maybe they weren't so rapid."

"You can mourn her and take as much time as you need to move on. No one is rushing you."

"Now, you mean." He met her eyes. "I never meant to hurt Carol, you know that, right? I thought I was ready to move on. I honestly did, but...then Carl told me about the baby, and I was right back where I was months ago. I should have handled it better."

"Yeah, it was stupid to get involved with her. You were married to Lori since you were legal. You needed to give it more time." She didn't like to talk about Carol when she wasn't around, especially not to her ex-boyfriend, but they needed to address this. "You keep rushing to try and move forward, but you don't decide that. It's...a process your head and your heart have to work out, and once you're there, you won't question it. You won't feel guilty. You'll simply be there, and Lori's there, too, and it's okay."

"You make it sound easy."

"Trust me, it's not." She smiled bittersweetly. "But I had to accept those terms when I split with Andre's father. We luckily weren't married, and I gained full custody, but...it's a hard headspace to get over. A constant in your life is completely gone, and you wonder how long they'd been inching out that door. A week? Two? A month? Longer? It's... crippling, especially if you aren't the one to make that move, and even when you are... you wonder if it's right. If this issue will pass, but in the end if you've considered leaving even once... you've already decided the issue doesn't really matter. The relationship has run its course, and it's time to call it."

He nodded. "Dale told me...it takes half the time of a relationship to recover from it."

"Eh, I don't think that's necessarily true, but maybe for some people it is." She shrugged a shoulder. "We recover at our own pace, and you'll get there."

"You're the only one who has faith in me." He smiled at her. "Even Carl is sick of me asking about her."

"Then stop asking." She drank more from her glass and set it down on the table. "You can't expect to move on when you're clinging to her every move."

"No, th—that isn't why I asked." He set his cup down by hers. "I just...wanted to know if she's happy, because that's all that I want for her now. I'm at a point where I've come to terms with all of it, and it's okay that we didn't work out. You've helped me get there, but I just... don't feel comfortable trying again. It's hard to see a point to it."

"I hear that. I haven't seriously dated since Terry and I split." She shifted and wrapped her arms around herself. "We had a lot of issues, mostly trust issues, and I don't know if I can go through that again. I hated the constant doubts."

"Exactly. I don't want to go through a relationship and worry I'm still doing what I did to make Lori leave. I'm not entirely sure what I even did or didn't do. She never told me."

"Then take a look at yourself, see if there's anything you don't like or want to change, but make sure it's for you. You can't do it for some unknown future relationship. Everything now is about you and your son, so...reinvent yourself." She and Carol had gone through that whole process a couple years after Terry, and Carol was a massive help. She went out now and then, but nothing serious. The most important relationship she had to work on was her and her son's. They'd been through a lot with Terry, and it just needed repairing. They needed repairing.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "So, I need to stop trying to repairing in a broken relationship and fix what might be wrong with me for myself. Is that all?"

"Maybe get a dog, too," she teased. "I have a couple that need a home."

"No, thanks." He chuckled. "I already have one hyper mess on my hands. I can't handle another. Maybe one day, though."

"Just let me know. My door's always open."

"Thank you." He reached out and grasped her hand. "I really couldn't have gotten through this without you. You're one of the best parts of my day." He laughed softly. "And your son is awesome. He's a great kid."

"Thank you. That means a lot to me, and hey, that's what friends are for." She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Friends, huh? She hadn't even told her best friend, practically her sister, that she was having this relationship with Rick. She kept it in the dark and prayed Carol didn't make any impromptu visits to her home. She was being such an asshole about this entire situation, because she didn't want Carol to worry. They were just friends, and she was helping him get over the shambles of his life. She didn't mind to help, and even though Carol had been there for her, she hadn't live it. She couldn't fully experience what it does to the mind. It warps everything to have someone you love look at you and say it's all over, they don't love you anymore and just leave. Carol's experience was...a fight, too, but not like this one. Hers was worse.

"I know that look." He sighed for her now. "You haven't told Carol about this."

"No, that isn't what this look is. This look is me feeling like I'm being a hypocrite." She drew air into fill her lungs and let it linger before blowing it out. "She asked me about us, and I told her we're friends. She knows. I just... feel guilty."

"Why? We are just friends. I wouldn't sabotage that for anything."

"I think it's just because you two were involved, and I didn't say anything sooner." She waved it away with a short chuckle. "You were like a little secret, and I think I'm still holding guilt over that. It'll pass on its own."

"Well, if it doesn't, you can talk to me about it. I know guilt pretty well." He squeezed her hand before letting it go and standing. "Do you want some more wine?"

"That'd be great." She nodded. "Also could you bring back that cheese platter from lunch? I need a snack."

"Yeah, I'll just carry it in my teeth." He gestured to the two glass and couldn't help but grin. "A little cheddar with saliva? Yum."

"Oh, shut up." She laughed and climbed over the back of the couch to help him. "Fine, let me get the door for you."

"Oh, thanks. I never would have managed."

They spent the rest of the evening laughing and drinking and consuming cheese cubes. Michonne aired out her issues with her ex, feeling like she didn't have to keep it back with him there, and Rick listened to every word and made comments he hoped were helpful. He did the same with her, and her comments were definitely helpful. He was happy to be there with her, and it made him happier to know Carl was there with him and had an equally great time with Andre. He wanted to spent more time with them, getting to know Michonne even better and getting to know Andre, too. They had a lot in common, and so did their boys. He had a feeling they would be in each others' lives for a long time, and it brought him a lot of joy. Just that one thought. It could also be the wine. They had gone through two whole bottles and were opening a third, going back to their youth with laughter filling the air between them.


	9. Independence Day

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

It was the third of July today, and there were so many sales going on. Carol had accepted Daryl's offer of looking for furnishings, and they began the date at his place to have breakfast. Carol offered to buy them breakfast in town, but he didn't want to deal with people this early in the morning. She teased him and reminded him he'd still have to deal with people once they were done, and he agreed, but it wouldn't be as early. Also he had unlimited coffee here, and he was picky about coffee. Carol had noticed, but she didn't say anything about it. It was what it was, and he seemed content with it, so she'd let it be. There were other conversations to be had.

Daryl focused on his coffee instead of the woman at his table, pulling out muffins she'd made late last night for them, and he could only nod as his mouth dried out. He scolded himself and tried to not look at her exposes legs, because it was perfectly normal for someone to wear shorts in this heat. And it was normal for them to couple those shorts with a loose t-shirt with a low V-neck and that was barely tucked into the front of those shorts. She wanted to cool off when the sun came out in full force. That was all. She wasn't doing this for him. He needed to stop.

_Do you want banana nut or chocolate chip? _Carol motioned between the two muffins. _There's more of each flavor in the bag, too._

"I ain't picky." He pushed off the counter and grabbed the chocolate chip, biting into it. Holy shit, those were delicious. They were moist and fluffy. Jesus.

She smiled at his expression. _Do you like them?_

He nodded to avoid talking with his mouth full. _Like them? Hell, I'd stalk your fucking house to steal them while they cooled off. _That he kept to himself, because who the hell would want to hear that statement.

_Good. _She picked up the banana and bit into it.

They ate their breakfast of muffins and bacon—since Spike was left out, and Carol guilted him into making just a couple pieces for him—and they headed out. Spike wanted to come with them, but Daryl couldn't leave him in the hot car all day. That'd be brutal. He promised to take him next time, and he stomped back upstairs, not looking back at them. Carol giggled, and he was ready for whatever hell he'd walk back into tonight.

They went to the local furniture store to check out what they had, Daryl was prepared to have to go into the city to really get anything good, but Carol was optimistic. He went with it and followed her through the store to find items for the newly finished sun room, and he spotted a couple people watching them. He tried not to let it bother hi, but his skin began to itch, and he sank down onto one of the display sets to avoid seeing them.

_How about this one? _Carol stood behind a dark wicker love seat with a white and brown pattern on the cushion. _It's cute. It'll go well with the stained glass. It's lowkey, and it'll make the glass stand out. What do you think about it? _

"It's all right. I was thinkin' since it curved, I'd just secure some wicker benches against the walls, maybe leave space for plants or somethin'." He shrugged a shoulder while Carol seemed to love the idea, and he tried not to smile, because he'd look at sun room ideas online to try and impress her for today. It was worth it. He really didn't care, but he did how it looked. "You like that idea?"

_It's perfect! We should get a coffee table and maybe a love seat for the all between the two entrances? Or do you want to put something there? Like a window? Or wardrobe?_

"Huh, a window wouldn't be bad. It'd bring in more light." He thought about it. "And I know a guy. A big oval window would work. Could built into the walls to make an designed archway for the entrances instead of doors."

_That sounds...really cool. How would you do that? _

"I know a guy who works with wood. He could come out and see if we'll have to build onto it or just use what's there. I mean, you know patterns, right? Some leaves, maybe? A couple flowers? It does overlook into the woods."

_That's perfect. I can't wait to see the finished product. _She beamed at him. _You're really good at this. Has anybody ever told you that?_

"No, it's just me till I moved here and got a dog." He walked over to the bench. "But I appreciate that."

_Expect more of that, because I think you're brilliant. You're nothing like how I thought you'd be, and that's a compliment. Truly. I hope you can teach me some of eye of yours. My cottage needs a couple touch ups. _

"If you want, I could come and take a look at it."

Her heart skipped a beat. She hadn't let any man into her cottage since she purchased it. If they had sex or dinner at home, it would be at their place. The cottage was a safe place hidden in the woods where nobody would stumble upon it. It had an alarm system and extra locks and dead bolts. It was a haven for her in the middle of a have of a town. She wasn't sure she was ready for that.

She attempted a smile. _Maybe one day._

"All right." He nodded. "Why don't we move onto the living room? That couch comes with me, so it needs some stuff."

_True. I have a couple ideas in mind, but please offer your opinion. It's your house to sell, and honestly, I want to know what you want._

He chuckled._ No, you do not want to know what I want,_ he thought to himself, checking the price tag to the wicker love seat and tacking it from the total in his account. He saved with the best of this, but this would cost a pretty penny when they were done. He'd get it back in the sell, but damn, it almost physically hurt him. Growing up poor and spending over a ten dollars on something felt a mortal wound. He would never get used to it.

Carol found a nice-looking and reasonably priced living room set, though he did have to get a different color. Carol asked why, and he mentioned how it clashed with the paint, and he also was no fan of this shade of red. It reminded him too much of blood, but he didn't mention this to her. She did eye him when he looked away from it, and she set a hand on his arm. He felt more eyes than affection from the gesture, and he moved on to pick out a better kitchen table since he wasn't so sturdy after Spike and his climbing adventures.

Carol went through and told the saleswoman what he wanted, she nodded and tried to talk to Daryl about it, but he was distracted. Carol handled the sale and insurance on the items, and Daryl dug his card out to pay.

"Would you like to set up a payment plan?" She accepted his card and had more paperwork ready for yes. She had been told the verbiage of this stupid sale all week, so she knew it by heart.

"No, just pay in full."

She gaped. "I—in full?"

_Daryl, that's a lot of money. _Carol couldn't mask the panic on her face. How out of it was he? He couldn't seriously afford to pay in full right now, could he?

"I know. I worked the price out when we were getting it." He looked from the saleswoman to Carol. "Just ship it to the address Carol gave you by the fifth, please."

"All right." The saleswoman pulled out a large smile and made the largest sale of the season thus far.

Daryl and Carol went next door to get some ice cream to beat the heat, Carol paid for it, despite Daryl already having his card out, and they stepped outside to continue their shopping. Carol was nervous about spending any more money, and Daryl frowned at how thick his milkshake was. He'd have to wait for it melt some.

"You know I sold a house before I bought this one, right?" Daryl studied Carol as they walked down the street. "I sold it for three times its worth."

She nodded, her stomach actually upset from his previous transaction.

"And I've worked at Dales for two years. I save most of my check." Nadia and Dale feed him more often than not, so all he has to do is pay the bills for the house. He rarely uses a lot of gas, so that was mostly it. The power bill didn't get very high, and he only used two rooms in the whole house. Three, if he wanted to watch TV, but he mostly read or went for walks with Spike.

She stopped walking and handed her waffle cone bowl over so she could talk, and he accepted it. _I do know that, but that was a lot of money. You didn't even flinch. How can that not bother you?_

"I'll get it back once I sell the place, remember?"

She'd forgotten, actually. It made being around him easier, believing that house was his, and she would drop by at any time to hang out with him and her favorite furry friend. It was starting to ache, knowing he would actually be leaving once they were done. And they only had the dining room and the bed rooms left. He would leave those unfurnished, maybe add some nightstands or something like that for effect. She said she'd fill them with something, but he said it was fine. Most people liked to make their rooms their own, and that just cut more time off their time together.

"Besides that wasn't even the most I've spent on furniture." He sat down on a bench, sitting his milkshake beside him and holding up her waffle cone bowl. "This looks good. You should eat it before it melts."

She dropped beside him and accepted it, sucking air in through her nose and peering at him before pulling out a smile and resting the bowl on her knees. _The house will look amazing when you're done._

"I hope. Makes sellin' it easier." He squinted at the light in his eyes and turned on the bench to face her, so one of his eyes would be spared the glare. "Speakin' of, do you wanna help me sell it?"

She'd just taken a bit of her ice cream, so she poked herself with her finger.

"Yeah. You know these people, and if they won't buy it, I can sell it in the city. People love a good summer home."

Her smile dried up, but she numbly nodded her head in agreement.

"Think I'll go back to the country," he murmured to himself. "Never liked the city myself."

_Oh, so you're a country boy? _She teased and smirked at him. _That explains the accent and plaid._

He ducked his head and chuckled. "Guess so."

She touched his arm lightly to his his attention, and he raised his head. _Where do you plan to go then? Some place South? Or do you have a hometown you'll head back to? _

"No, no hometown for me. I...uh, dunno, just gonna go where I go."

_Will you ever come back here? To visit? Or see how the house is being treated? _She scooped out more ice cream, catching a strawberry slice and chocolate sauce, turning back to him.

He recalled instantly what Dale had asked him back at the shop weeks ago, and he stammered before offering a shrug. "Who can say where I'll end up."

_Well, I hope you make it back here one day. It'd be great to see how you again. _She couldn't explain the stone resting in her gut, but she tried her damnedest to not let it show. He didn't need to know how she felt about his leaving, and she was the one who walked into this friendship, knowing he'd have to leave one day. She had no one to blame but herself.

He grabbed his shake and tried again to drink it, finding the heat had melted it enough to taste. He was grateful, because it offered up the perfect excuse to not speak. He used it to his advantage as she devoured her ice cream, and even as they moved on to pick out some art for the kitchen, hallways and living room. He had no opinion to offer other than slightly mocking, and Carol told him to hush. She was teasing and laughing again, and he smiled at the sight of it. He liked when she was happy. It made him happy. He'd never known that before. His emotions being tied to another person's, but in rare moments it was...kind of cool. It certainly perked up his own mood.

_This is so pretty. _Carol stopped by a storefront displaying a piece of artwork from a new up and coming local artist. _I like it._

Daryl snorted. "It looks like a dog sat in paint and wiped its ass everywhere." He scoffed at the price. "Spike could make this, and it'd cost less."

She smirked at him. _It does not._

"Yeah, keep tellin' yourself that." He shook his head and walked away.

She lingered for a moment before catching up to him, and he offered to cook her dinner. She accepted, and they headed back to his truck. He had to stop by the store for food, and they spent the thirty-minute drive out of town to the super center talking. Carol wanted to know why he flipped houses, and he had no real answer. He was good with his hands, and it involved hardly any people. He liked to be alone, and Carol called bullshit. He could only snort a laugh and roll his eyes, and she made it known that he wasn't alone anymore. And he knew she didn't mean Spike. He tried to seem unphased by this announcement, but the tender smile wasn't a simple battle. Especially when her full smile came out, and he told her to stop.

He picked out a couple steaks to grill for dinner, Carol would prepare the sides and picked out some healthy greens, and he asked if she wanted to get some wine. He hadn't a big wine drinker, but he was an asshole on anything heavier, and he spotted that smirk back on her lips.

"What now?" He stopped the shopping cart and turned to her.

_I don't know. Steak, wine. That's pretty romantic, don't you think? _She crossed her arms and met his eyes. _If you wanted to screw around, I approve of this lead in._

His eyes widened as scarlet burned across his cheeks. He hadn't meant it that way. He just thought she'd want something to drink other than water. Was this romantic? He wasn't very romantic. He just wanted to eat a steak with a potato and sit on the couch to watch the lightening bugs. That was no romance. That was sparing his AC, because it cooled off at night, and he had no cable, so the bugs were something to look at. Jesus, fuck, that was romantic, wasn't it?

She giggled at him and continued down the aisle to pick up some wine, leaving him to grumble and trail after her. They checked out, and Daryl paid this time, grabbing her wrist and spinning her around behind him. She blinked and huffed at him, trying to stop his payment, and they attracted some attention in that process. She didn't care, because she was paying, but he moved his arm to her waist and finished paying. She peered over his shoulder to see approved flashing on the screen and jabbed him lightly in the back with her card. He was too pleased with himself to care.

He drove home, the sun began to set, and they were greeted by an extremely excited Spike. Daryl had brought him a lean piece of meat to make up for leaving, but he could see Spike was fine with it. That, or he was pleased to have tackled Carol completely to the ground and using her as a cushion while he liked her face. She had tried to fight for a moment, but she submitted and let him lick her half to death before running to find his dad.

_He's such a strong dog. How do you manage?_

"Mostly, I don't." He unloaded the groceries and caught her laughing at him. "He's a big softie, so that helps."

_I see. Well, he's lucky to have you. It speaks a lot on someone who takes care of what some might call a pet family. _She put the wine and the cold items in the fridge.

"You got any pets?" He balled up the bags. "You work at the pet store, so you'd have easy access."

_I want to get a pet one day, but I don't have any space right now. Probably if I ever own a pet, it'll be after I...have kids or something. _She didn't to mention her plan to have a child should Shawn say yes, because that was an interesting conversation. Interesting and could be seen a pathetic. She hadn't even told Michonne about it. She figured she'd wait until she had an answer.

He flattened the bags in his hands. "You gettin' any closer to settlin' down?"

Did he talk to Shawn? Why would he ask that? She tried to play it cool and shook her head, but inside was worried he might know something. Only Shawn knew at the moment, and after him, she hoped only his parents, Michonne, and her doctor. She would let everyone else guess what how she got pregnant, because it was none of their business, and she didn't need that going around for her kid to hear one day. She didn't want anybody else involved. She'd have Shawn sign his rights away, so it was just her baby. Of course the Greenes were more than welcome to be involved. It would be their grandchild. If he said yes.

"You want a lot of kids?" He tucked the bags into a drawer to use for when he took Spike out for walks.

_Just one or two would be fine. I suppose I'll have to talk it over with the father when that day comes. _She didn't want this to continue, because it felt like lying, and she didn't want to lie to him. _What about you? Do you want kids? I know you don't want to be in love and have a relationship, but what about kids? It could happen without marriage._

"No kids. I'm good with my nephew."

She nodded. _That's a shame. I bet you'd make a good dad._

"More of your accuracy reading?" He leaned against the counter with his arms crossed.

_Maybe. _

"Well, I hate to disappoint, but women and me don't mix, so no kids in my future, save for my nephew."

_Are you gay? _She met his eyes as he gaped at her. _Maybe you don't like sex? But you put yourself through it because the woman you're with wants it, and that's why the relationship fails? _

"I'm not gay." He sounded defensive, and he knew he wasn't gay, but he was to quick to deny it. "And I like sex. A lot, okay? And chicks."

_My bad. _She held her hands up in a gesture of peace. _I was just giving you options. I get relationships aren't for everyone, and that's fine. I wondered if it might be more. I didn't mean to offend you._

"You didn't—and being gay isn't offensive. It's just inaccurate in this situation." He cleared his throat. "Why are we even talking about this?"

_You asked me about kids and relationships, so I asked you. That's kind of questions work. It's not all one-sided. _

"Tssh, then I won't ask anymore."

_How will you get to know me then? _She cocked her head to the side. _Do you even want to know me?_

"You're here, aren't you?" He searched her eyes and whispered it, not that the volume mattered. Maybe he didn't want to hear himself say it. He was protecting himself from the truth. He had a relationship here. He liked this relationship, and it wasn't just between them. It was Dale and Nadia. It was with Tara and Denise. Rick. To anyone who came into the store and talked to him daily. He had inadvertently made a challenge out of leaving this town, and it was apparent to him now. He wished it wasn't, because he couldn't stay. He refused to stay.

She smiled lovingly at him. _I am here—for you and for us. I'll start the grill for you. _She clapped her hands and Spike went with her to fire up the grill.

He couldn't tell her why he couldn't just stay and be here, maybe try and be with her, because it wasn't something he liked to think about. She kept pushing every fucking day, and she didn't mean to. He knew that. She wanted to get to know him, but it was starting to work. There was something about her, and it got under his skin. Not in the annoying way of people he used to know, but in a soothing way. Like if he told her every awful thing he'd ever done or that had happened to him, she'd understand and take his side without question. She would stand by him and support him, and maybe he would overcome it, but he'd live with this for so long, how did he overcome? And just to leave this place and her?

No, no, it wasn't worth it. He had been here before, and he'd been dead wrong. The cost was high, and he couldn't go through it again. He knew Carol meant well. She was one of the best people he knew, but he would ruin her. She was happy and caring and kind, and he wasn't the type of person who deserved a woman like her. She overcame her past and her struggles and was helping others to do the same. He couldn't take that from her, but he would. Somehow, some way, he would take it. Like he seemed to take everything from the world and from himself. It was no wonder he never saw his nephew for longer than a weekend. He couldn't blame anybody for that but himself.

He dropped his eyes to the floor and exhaled slowly, but the mood had settled over his soul. It wasn't going to be lifted simply because he wanted it gone. He would stick it out and sleep until it was gone. If he couldn't sleep, he'd drink. That always made him sleep, even if the dreams weren't pleasant. It wasn't like any of his memories were anyhow.

It was around nine when they'd finally gotten to eat. Carol noticed Daryl had fallen into a dark place, even Spike couldn't draw him out of that mood, and they made dinner separately. Spike went back and forth, clearly disturbed by his dad's foul mood, and Carol offered him some cheese and told him it'd be okay. They cooked and brought their pieces of the meal together, and they sat outside with the wine and Spike and the night air. They didn't say anything as they dug in, though Daryl seemed to pick at his meal, and Carol could only be silent for so long.

Daryl jolted when knuckles touched his arm, pressing in carefully, and he looked over at Carol, frowning. "What the hell are you doing?"

She added more pressure.

"Stop." He grasped her wrist. "What is it?"

She pulled her wrist free and did it again.

"Okay, stop." He caught her wrist and moved it away from his body but still held it. "If you won't talk then stop."

_Exactly_, she mouthed at him.

"You can't wiggle your fingers and fix it, so I'm not going to talk about it." He dropped her hand. "You can help me fix this house up, but you can't fix me."

_I know I can't fix you, only you can do that. _She set her plate beside them on the porch, not worry as Spike had finished his steak and was working on the bone. _I just want you to trust me. You've been willingly alone for two years, and that breaks my heart. I know you can't want that, no matter what you say. I know you have to hate being alone. I can see it in your eyes right now, because it's the same look I get when I see myself in the mirror after a bad day. But we didn't have a day. We had fun today. We laughed. We got to spend time together. I got to know you, so talk to me. Please?_

"It's nothing talking can help, all right? Just drop it."

_I won't drop it, because it's bothering you. Talk to me. I know I push a lot, but it's only because I care. You clearly can't work this out yourself, so trust me. I know how bad life can get—_

"You don't know anything about me," he cut her off. "You know the same limited crap Dale knows. Maybe a little more, but ultimately you don't know what I've been through. You don't know my life. You can't just sit there and say it'll get better when I've been trying make it better since I was six years old. It doesn't get much better than this, and that's through all the bullshit therapy and pills I've been through. It's pointless."

_If you're going in with an attitude like that, of course you won't benefit from it. You need to change your outlook and step out of your comfort zone. It can takes years—_

"I don't want to change," he snapped. "I've been changin' myself since I was kid, and there's nobody to please. It's all the same shit. People are lairs. They use you. If you're lucky, you get to walk away with the same number of scars as you went in with. If you're not, it's a fucking nightmare. You might not even walk away from it all. Like my... Ugh! You just don't understand what I'm talking about. You live in this stupid little town in a bubble and nothing bad ever happens expect that you got broken up with.

"But the world isn't like this tranquil little hole. It's fucked up, full of users and abusers. Full of people who want what's best for you for them, and it's the same cycle. There is no good end of the deal. You just have to keep to yourself, because you won't get screwed over that way. It's honestly the only way." He scoffed. "People aren't worth changin' for 'cause it's never enough. And it's never for your own good. It's how they can profit off your changes or how changin' you makes them feel good about themselves. I'm not here to make someone else feel good about their shitty ass past. Never asked to be."

She stood up, Daryl lifted his head and instantly realized what he'd said, his lips parting to try and apologize at the tears in her eyes, and she glared down at him.

_You think I don't know what the world is like? Really? Do you think that? _she demanded, signing faster with each word, and he tried to ask her to slow down, but she was furious. _Because let me tell you of the world I grew up in. My parents were okay people, but they weren't good judges of character. They left me alone with a negligent babysitter, and so many times I was left starving. They worked all the time to support our bills, so they didn't notice. Hell, my mother complimented my figure when I was fifteen. I had an eating disorder at that point, because the babysitter harassed me when I asked about eating. She used to mock my weight and said I was eating good enough as I was. It started when I was ten, and it ended when I was twenty-seven. _

_And I wasn't always deaf, you know. I used to be able to hear and speak just like you. I spent fifteen years in the hearing world, and now here I am. With you and your dog. Listening to you cry about the world without ever thinking other people have lived in that same world, too. You need to grow up, Daryl, because I've been in the world. I lived in it. I lost myself in it, and then I lost my hearing to it. Now... now I'm in a place where I can be happy, and you're trying to tell me all my work is bullshit? _She was panting with how upset she was with him, and he hadn't said anything, only stared up at her, and she walked away.

"Hey, wait." He caught up to her in the kitchen. "Wait."

She set down the glass of water she'd made herself and eyed him. _Why would I wait? _

"I'm sorry. I didn't..." He sighed and stepped closer to her. "I never meant to go off on you. I know you're not like them. For the first time someone actually cares and is willing to put up with me... I just don't know how to feel about it. Or you. Or this. I'm trying. I really am."

_I know you're trying, but you have no right to blow up on me. I have been through some shit, too. _Her eyes burned into his face. _You don't get to say fuck the world without thinking about the other people in it who have suffered, too. You are valid in your pain and your past, but you're an asshole for assuming someone who isn't miserable hasn't experienced anguish, too._

"I... I'm real sorry. I just don't know what to do with you."

Her brows knitted together. _What does that mean? _

"The only women in my life are either with me for something I have or...are Nadia and Tara. I don't know how to have this relationship with you. I don't think I'm doing it right."

_What do you mean? How can you not do a friendship right? Aside from our relationship consisting of mostly fights._ She searched his eyes and saw a conflict there. _You can talk to me. _

"I like you," he admitted.

_I like you, too. I thought I made that apparent. _She was smiling, amused, and he wasn't. She frowned then and realized what he meant. She blushed and stepped back. _Oh._

"I... I didn't mean to start likin' you this way. I just did all of a sudden, and I do want to be friends. I just don't know how to do that. I'm angry, probably naturally, and I don't like people. I don't like talking. I don't like a lot of things, but I like them with you... only with you." He exhaled. "You make me happy, and I ain't ever had that before, save for my dog. But it ain't exactly the same."

She swallowed and picked up the glass of water to drink it.

"I don't want a relationship, though, so don't worry about that. I do want your help with this place still, and I want to be your friend. I just...figure out how to do that with this feelin'." He knotted his fingers together then let his hands fall to his sides. "I'm leavin' once this place is done, so you don't have to try and make me a better person. We can just fix it up, and that's that. I think it's better that way. I don't want to hurt you anymore."

She set the glass down and wiped at the moisture on her face before meeting his eyes. _You don't need me to make you a better person, and you're not naturally angry. You just think you are, so you act like it. You need to learn to let go of emotions, not people. I... I'll help you with the house still, but I have one request._

"I won't act on the feelin'," he assured her. "It'll pass."

_All right. That's good to know, but that wasn't my request. _She smirked at him, and he narrowed his eyes. _Come with me to the BBQ tomorrow. It'll be the only time you experience it, right? So come with me. I won't ask anything else from you, and it can be an apology for "hurting me"._

He nodded. "All right, but I'm gonna complain the whole time."

_No, you won't. _

He chuckled at her confidence then set his face to ask, "How did it happen?"

_I'd rather not talk about it. _She shook her head. _I'd say maybe one day, but...you're leaving, no matter what?_

"No matter what," he confirmed.

_Then...I guess you'll never know._ She looked out the kitchen window. _Let's take a walk. It's such a nice night. _

"Yeah, that'd be great. Just gotta clean up the plates."

_If Spike hasn't gotten there first, _she commented.

"Right."

Luckily Spike hadn't gotten to their plates or drinks, he was still gnawing on the bone to his own steak, and Daryl took it from him as it was now a choking hazard, letting him have an actual dog bone of his teeth and breath. He settled onto the couch with it, and Daryl met Carol outside. They walked the same trial he took Spike on when he got home from work, and they didn't talk much, simply enjoyed the scents of the night and each other's company. Daryl apologized again, and Carol told him she'd forgiven him, but only one this last time. He smiled and said that'd be enough.

– – –

In the morning Carol picked up Daryl for the BBQ, he insisted Spike had to come with him, and Carol said it'd be fine. Other people brought dogs, and he groaned when that wasn't enough to get him out of this. He'd agreed, but the complaining started now. She laughed at him and drove them to Tara's. She'd offered to come early and help set up.

Unfortunately for Daryl, Carol wasn't the only one to come early and help set up. There had to be twenty people there already, and Carol was hauled off to the kitchen to assist with setting up the tables. Daryl wanted to back out, but Dale was there and spotted him. He put him to work immediately, like he was back at the store, and the morning quickly faded into afternoon. Food began to pop up on the tables outside, bug repellents were everywhere, and dogs and kids began to fill the backyard.

Daryl hung up some lights with Dale for when the sunset, Enid and Noah were playing with the animals and other kids, and he spotted Carl and Andre joining them. He saw Carol and Michonne greet each other and Rick approached to try and break the ice. He almost slipped on the ladder, and Dale told him to keep his eyes on the lights. He finished up with them and stepped off the ladder, seeing Dale's smirk, and he walked off to find a beer. Any beer.

Tara caught him and asked him to lend her a hand with the grill, and he could see Carol and Rick talking just inside the kitchen, but mostly he saw the beer Rick had brought with him. He heaved a sigh and turned to lend her his hands since he clearly could have nothing more to do here.

It took about thirty minutes with this task since Tara hadn't brought the bad boy out since last forth. Daryl told her some tips on how to take care of the damn thing, and Tara thanked him, a look in her eye telling him she already knew this and didn't need help, and he decided to ignore that. He couldn't acknowledge it, or he'd just leave, so he ignored it and finished up the task. He ditched out the moment he could to get anything to drink at this point and found Carol looking bumped in the kitchen. He was tempted to drink out of the bathroom sink, but he didn't like seeing her in this shape, so he leaned against the island once he'd closed the space between them.

"Hey, the pie's gettin' you down?"

_No, I'm a little tired, is all. I didn't get much sleep last night. I had to help make a dish, and I forgot. So, by the time I got home from your place, it was about two in the morning, and I had to bake. I... could seriously pass out right now. _A sloppy, sleepy grin crossed her face, and it was adorable.

He really wanted to kiss her then, but he leaned back. "Let me make you a coffee."

_I've had three cups. It's not working. _She gestured to the new pot brewing. _I used a huge ass cup with a lot of sugar and cream. I'm dying. _

"Nah, I meant a Dixon coffee. You'll never sleep again." He moved her aside, she laughed at his fingers brushing her ribs, and she sat down at the island. "Just try and stay awake till I'm done."

She tapped her hands on the island when he turned his back to her, and he looked over his shoulder. _How do you even know Tara has the ingredients? _

"Have you seen this kitchen?" He gestured to all the dishes steadily covering every surface. "She has everythin' in here for this cook out. I think we're good to go."

She smiled. _Continue, please. _

He threw it together without giving anything away as Carol watched him closely, moving from coffee maker to blender, tossing in seemingly randoms ingredients. She was tempted to get off the stool and see what the hell he was going to make her drink, and he used his broad shoulders to keep her eyes off the almost finished product. She was growing impatient and almost climbed over the counter to see what was going on when he dropped a cup in front of her.

_It's cold? _She iced the coffee-colored drink, drizzled with chocolate and topped in whipped cream.

"It's hot as the devil's arm pit with that oven on, so yeah." He helped himself to the leftovers. "Cheers."

Carol reached over and caught his glass before he could drink it and held a finger up.

"What?"

_Is this thing even safe? Do you honestly know?_

He laughed. "Carol, it's coffee, milk, Oreos and whipped cream. I think it's fine."

_That's all? That's a milkshake. _She sucked down half of it through the straw. It was really good, but there was a strong after taste that kind of killed it. She licked whipped cream from her lip and met his eyes.

"Also some espresso powder I sold Tara last week." He grinned at her and drank his.

Once the espresso kicked in, Carol was like road runner, and Tara had to ask her to sit down, but she was too hyped up. The cookout bad begun about an hour ago, and she as just blazing through it, cleaning messes and playing with the kids. Daryl sat on the deck and chuckled under his breath at her, and Michonne tried to calm her down, but it didn't do anything. She was like a fast, lean, cleaning machine, and the kids had a blast playing with her. Even the dogs loved it. Spike especially, but he was half in love with the woman already, so it was no surprise.

Then about two hours in the Dixon coffee wore off, and Carol crashed hard. Michonne sat down with her and tried to ask what the hell happened, but her hands were shaking from the crash. She just curled up in the living room in the corner and possibly fell asleep. She hadn't moved in a good ten minutes, and Daryl would let her sleep if she needed it.

Daryl had avoided people for the first couple of hours but Denise pulled him off the deck to meet some people. Some people turned into every fucking human at the party, and he tried to escape with an actual excuse of checking on Carol, but Denise ditched him to do it. He didn't want this at all, and he wished he had someone to check on him, but he decided to tough it out. They weren't so terrible, and it was kinda nice to talk to someone else. He liked Carol in many ways, but there was only so much they could talk about.

Daryl hung out with a guy name Shawn, and Spike hung around with them. Daryl liked the man. He was interested in business and crops, and Daryl had a feeling this was Hershel's boy, but he didn't want to ask and ruin the conversation. He made that mistake once, and he left standing alone. He didn't care then, but Shawn held an interesting conversation, so he kept it to himself. He'd ask Carol later, but for now, he cracked open his second beer and asked Shawn about the farm he worked on.

The kids lined up to fill their plates, Daryl figured it was time to look in on Carol himself, and he found her rousing in the corner with a cup of tea on the floor beside her. He moved the cup and plopped down between her and the couch, leaving her slouched against the wall. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes, seeing how this could be cozy. He just needed a pillow, a chiropractor for in the morning, and it'd be perfect.

Carol gripped her head, moaning softly and looking around in front of her. She saw people walking in and out through a backdoor, and she frowned, knowing Daryl's house didn't look like this, neither did her cottage. She could smell food cooking and remembered the cookout. She pulled her legs in tighter and groaned, a pulsing in the back of her head and eyes, and she wanted to crawl into a hole and die. She didn't have the energy to go out there and talk to people. She felt almost hungover. If she saw Daryl, he was going to be slapped.

"Hey." Daryl nudged her side with his elbow, holding out the cup of tea Denise likely left her.

She raised her head and glared at him. _Don't talk to me._

He couldn't help the small smile. "Here. It'll help with the headache."

She accepted the tea and gripped the handle, moving her hand to his upraised knees and tracing out: _Evil._

"It wasn't that bad." He snickered. "You just gotta get used to the crash."

_NO_, she spelled out and brought cup to her lips to drink.

He rubbed his jaw and sat with her while she recovered, sipping the tea and rubbing the head of her head. He shifted uneasily when she moaned softly at rubbing a spot on her head, and she seemed to notice, because she dropped her hand and downed the rest of the tea. She stood up and put it back in the sink, and he walked outside with her.

Most everyone was eating and chatting, so Carol and Daryl made themselves some plates and sat in the grass in the shade. There were places inside, but Carol wanted to be outside with her friends and family, and Daryl wasn't going to stranded alone with people he didn't want to talk to. Although he did need to talk to Tara and Rick before he went home. There was a high probability of running into them tomorrow on his shift, but he'd rather do it now.

Denise brought out some chairs for Carol and Daryl to join them at the table, and Carol took off like a shot for a chair by Shawn and Annette. Daryl would have stayed, but Denise put effort into having them join the rest of the group and sat down beside Hershel, offering a nod as a way of greeting.

"Here." Shawn handed a packet of wet wipes to Carol. "You'll probably need to carry these on your own one day."

She didn't know what he meant by that but accepted them. She would need them to clean her fingers after eating Michonne's ribs and Hershel's chicken wings. They were the best part of the entire cookout. She didn't care about the steak or the burgers or anything else but these two main items. She balanced it out with veggies and a jog in the morning, but she was going to pig out. She was so hungry. She didn't even have breakfast, so her stomach was ready.

"How are things coming?" Hershel asked Daryl, passing down the salad bowl and seeing it'd been mostly ignored. He tried not to laugh, because Jeanette always made the salad and always returned with more than she brought. It was a running joke. He knew Maggie and Beth had brought bags of salad to add into the bowls when they were kids, and he'd heard them talking this morning. It was good to see some things didn't change.

"Comin'?" Daryl shook his head for bowl since his hands were covered in hot sauce.

"At the house? The one you're renovating?"

"Oh." He nodded. "Yeah, it's coming along good. Carol's been a big help, too. We're gettin' furniture in tomorrow, and I think after I replace the flooring in the upstairs, I'll be just about done."

Shawn glanced at Carol, but she wasn't watching the conversation. He knew Daryl leaving would be difficult for her. She'd been a mess when Maggie left for college, because they used to be so close, but she was happy. She was proud, but with Daryl, he was moving to run away, and they all knew it. It would just hurt her, and Shawn wished they hadn't even met. He hated to see people hurt her. She was such a good person. She deserved better.

"But I might stick around a bit longer. Spike's got some shots comin' up, and you're good with him," Daryl added. "And I still haven't looked at the shed. It's probably gonna need to be replaced entirely, but I can't say. I'll have to see."

Hershel smiled. "It's good that you're sticking around a bit. Does that mean you have a date set for when you'll leave?"

"Nah." He shook his head. "Just...probably at the end of summer, if I did."

_What's at the end of summer? _Carol looked from Hershel to Daryl, having missed most of the conversation while shoving food into her mouth.

Daryl was about to answer but snorted at the smear of BBQ sauce on her cheek. She looked like a little kid, so unaware and innocent. It was cute. "You got a little sauce on your face." He waved a finger over his cheek were it was on hers.

She blushed and wiped her cheek off, looking to Shawn to see if she'd gotten it off, and he offered a thumbs up before biting into his burger. She picked up her glass and waited for an answer to her earlier question.

"Spike's shots," Hershel answered before Daryl could. "But that's not something we really want to talk about. How are you two doing? You came together, didn't you?"

"Yeah." Daryl nodded. "I just didn't know where Tara lived."

_I also wanted to eat myself into a food coma and have someone drive me home this year that isn't Shawn. _She had so many embarrassing stories of that. If it wasn't Shawn, it was Rick, and that was too distressing to think about, so she'd chosen the safe option. Daryl would have to take her back to his place, but that was fine, too. Shawn and Rick dropped Carol off at Michonne's in the past. She'd just change and head into work from his place. She had spare clothes in the trunk of her car for a rest.

"Aww, but the memories." Shawn set a hand over his heart. "You've almost thrown up on me twice."

_I thought I'd spare you the horror. _She smiled sheepishly, a faint blush crossing her cheeks at all the times before. Michonne somehow was never around to see her in that state. She probably fled with Andre, who was in his own food coma.

"It wasn't horror." Shawn corrected. "It was suspense. You never knew." Then he'd hear her throwing up in the bathroom after she woke up. That was also the year of the bad chicken salad. He also threw up, but in her flower garden. She never let that go.

"Y'all are close then?" Daryl tried the other foods on his plate, not sure how he felt about the green casserole, but it had a nice kick to it. It kept drawing him back in.

"Yeah, we're close." Shawn nodded with a small smile.

Carol beamed at him. _We only got close through his middle sister. We met first, and Shawn and I just kinda clicked. We've been friends for almost as long as I've lived here. I trust him more than any other man. Well, almost. There are some exceptions. _

Daryl swallowed and offered a tight-lipped smile. "That's...nice."

"It is." Shawn drank from his cup. "Carol's like third sister I didn't ask for, but here we are, and I love her, so I'm SOL."

"So, y'all never dated?"

Shawn and Carol exchanged a look, Carol pointed at him as if to ask,_ Seriously? Me and him?_, and Shawn smacked her finger. They shared an amused laughed, and Shawn assured him they weren't interested in each other like that. He loved her, but it was just like he loved Maggie and Beth. Daryl seemed to relax at the news, and Hershel noticed.

"Hey, come take a walk with me." Shawn set a hand down on Carol's hand. "Work off some dinner before dessert."

She nodded and headed out with him, tossing back at Daryl, _I'll be back in a ten minutes, okay? _

"Take your time." He offered a brief wave goodbye and returned to his meal, hearing Hershel chuckle beside him. "What?"

"Of all the people in town, I never thought it'd be Carol who brought you out of your shell." He could hardly contain his amusement at the situation. "I also didn't think she was your type."

Daryl glowered at the old man, though the streaks of rogue along his neck and ears told a different stores. "I got no clue what you're talkin' about, but I'm certain you're wrong."

"Daryl, I've known you since you brought Spike in for his first set of shots. You aren't foolin' me, son." He studied his face as his eyes lost their glower and fell entirely. "I don't need you to admit anything, but if you aren't going to reconsider your leaving then I'll ask you to keep your distance. Life will continue on once you leave, and Carol will move on, but only if you keep this to yourself."

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "And if she already knows?"

"Then...you might a crueler man than I pegged you for."

Daryl tensed as soon as the world left the older man's lips, his hand shook around the glass he was grasping, and he cut a disbelieving look at Hershel. "What?"

"If you cared about her at all, you would either stay or you wouldn't have told her how you felt, because you know it won't work out and are going to leave regardless. What, did you think telling her was a good choice? You're still leaving, likely at the end of summer." His lips drew a disapproving line. "I know you value honesty, but that wasn't the right move to make."

"You don't know shit." He stood up and walked away, calling to Spike as he entered the house. He brought them over to the couch, Tara said it'd be fine if he got onto the couch, and Daryl sat down, rubbing his head while his mind thought over what Hershel said.

Meanwhile Carol and Shawn were halfway down the block, talking about nothing special, and Shawn asked if she got to see Beth or Maggie. She mentioned the concoction Daryl hd crafted for her that knocked her on her ass at about noon, and he busted out laughing. He wished he could have seen that, and she rolled her eyes with a smile on her lips.

"Well, they definitely want to see you." He tucked his hands into his pants pockets and inhaled deeply. "Hey, Carol?"

She turned to stand in front of him. _Yes? _

"I've made a decision." He searched her eyes and cleared his throat. "I'll do it."

She wasn't sure what he meant for a moment then her lips parted in a gasp, and she stumbled backwards a bit. She wasn't sure how to feel about this, but it wasn't the bubbling excitement she thought she'd feel. Like the night after she'd spoken to him. It was more apprehensive now.

_Are you sure?_

"Yes, I'm sure. I know you, and you'll make a great mother. I know Mom will be excited to help you through the process, and I'll be there if you need me. I know you'll probably want me to sign off my rights, and that's fine with me. I just... if they ever have any questions about their dad, just feel free to come and find me. I'm still your friend, no matter what, okay?"

_Yes, of course. I... Wow, Shawn, that means so much to me. Thank you. _She embraced him and rested her head on his shoulder, feeling more shaken than excited. She was sure it was just shock. It'd pass. She was sure once it passed, she'd been bouncing off the walls with happiness. Wouldn't she?

They returned to the cookout, Carol found Daryl and said she wanted to go home now, and he was right there with her. He'd packed up some leftovers for them at Tara's request, and they left without speaking to anybody else or saying goodbye.

Daryl knew why he was go keen to leave, but he didn't know why she was. She had friends at that cookout, probably family to her, but she looked pale. Her hands had been shaking, and she could have sworn he saw panic in her eyes. He didn't ask her about it, because he knew she didn't want to talk about it. If she did, she would have already told him what was going on, so he just sat silently in his seat and kept his eyes out on the road.

Night was creeping down on them, Spike was snoring in the backseat, and Carol pulled over just outside Daryl's road. He studied her and straightened in his seat, seeing she was evening her breathing. He started to ask what was wrong, but she began to sign.

_Last month I asked Shawn if he would have a baby with me. _Her delicate fingers trembled with each movement, but she kept it up and met his eyes. _Just his sperm, you know? I could do the rest on my own, and I told him to think about it._ _I've always want kids and a big family, but my relationships haven't gone very far, so I decided to take that desire into my own hands. I know Shawn. I trust him. He'd be a good donor for my baby, and... and I told him to take as much time as he needed to decide._

"He gave you an answer?" Daryl's mouth was bone dry.

She nodded with tears in her eyes, a faint smile on her lips growing into a full grin. _He said yes. _She covered her mouth with her hands and tried to calm her emotions.

He looked straight out through the windshield and recalled what Hershel told him. He gulped down his emotions and pulled out a smile. _That's incredible. I'm happy for you._

She snuffled and nodded. _This feels like I'm dreaming. _

"No, I'm sure it does." He glanced at her. "What...uh, what did you say?"

_I.. I don't remember. _She laughed. _I need to talk to him again and get it set up. I don't even know what all I have to do. I thought he'd need more time, or he'd say no, but he didn't, and... I can't believe it._

"Yeah, I'll bet." He undid his seat. "You should get home and think on this. Celebrate, even. Um, I'll walk the rest of the way. Get Spike's ass up."

_I can drive you. I just had to tell you. I couldn't keep it in. _She rubbed a knuckle under her hand.

"Nah, it's fine. I need to stretch my legs anyway, but um, I'll see you later, I guess?" He collected his bags of leftovers and Spike, who grumbled and slowly slipped out of the backseat. "Have a good night, and thanks for takin' me today."

_It's no problem. I like spending time together with my favorite boy. _She snapped her fingers, and Spike looked up. She waved at him and blew him a kiss, and he jumped into the front seat to lick her face. She squealed but accepted his kisses.

"C'mon, Spike, let up." Daryl was trying to rush this goodbye, and this damned dog just made it harder. He prolonged everything Daryl tried to rush. Jesus, he really needed a cat. Or a puppy to leave at home with Spike. Give him some responsibility. "Now, Spike!"

Carol felt Spike jolt and frowned when he climbed out of the car and bolted off down the road, Daryl cursed after him, and Carol wanted to ask if everything was all right, but he said good night and good luck. He closed the car door and disappeared down his road, and Carol lowered her eyes, slouching back into her seat and thinking over everything that happened today. She couldn't process it, to be honest, so she decided to just go home and take a bubble bath and try to figure out how she felt, because she was all over the spectrum.


	10. Lay It Out

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

Carol was distracted through her entire shift at work, Michonne watched and tried to figure out what was going on, while trying to keep an eye on her son. Andre sat in the break room with toys and apple slices since she opened. She'd asked Rick if he could babysit for her since he was off, and he'd be by once Carl's demist appointment was over, and Michonne got a text telling her he was on his way.

"Are you hungry?" Michonne touched Carol's shoulder, causing her to jump. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

_It's okay. I'm just out of it today. I... I haven't been sleeping. _She didn't want to talk about the forth. It'd been three days, and she avoided the subject. Daryl told her not to come by for a couple days while he sorted out the loose wood he had lying around for the upstairs. He claimed it was because he didn't want her to get hurt, but she let him think she bought that. She said she'd try and drop by tomorrow, but honestly, she wasn't sure she could.

After she told him about Shawn and a possibly baby, he flew out of her car and practically tossed Spike out of it, too. He was so ready to run away from the conversation that he scared Spike. She knew had to have raised his voice, because Spike was a good dog. He wasn't scared easy, save for when Daryl yelled, and Daryl yelled when he was frustrated. She'd seen him going off when he hurt himself by accident or something wasn't working how he thought it would. He normally went outside and just fell back into the dirt once he was done, and Spike would lie on him. Also, the fact that he wouldn't even let her say goodbye. He just waved and walked off without looking back, and that said he didn't approve of this decision, and it bothered him.

She didn't want to upset him, but honestly, he didn't have any right to _be_ upset. He was leaving town as soon as that fucking house was built, and he wasn't coming back. He'd told her that many times, too, so he really wasn't going to. He was a man of his word, and he kept vocalizing those words. He kept saying it like an assured fact despite everything. Despite taking time to get to know her and this town he wasn't going to stay in, despite letting himself acquire feelings for her. Despite letting himself get closer to her. And now for some reason, despite barely asking her about it, he let himself have an opinion on what she did with her body and let that opinion be known.

It infuriated her, because he made her question it. She had fine with it before she started getting to know him and helping him with that stupid house. She was ready for a baby. She was ready to move on from relationships and focus on this amazing piece of life she and Shawn had made, but now she had doubts. She couldn't even explain them to herself, but they were there. They were everywhere, and she was so unsure about taking this step. She hadn't even contacted Shawn to discuss how this would work. It pissed her off that he got into her head like this. They'd only known each other for a month, and he still wormed his way into her head—and just to leave! Ugh, god damn him!

"You look...furious, not sleepy." Michonne ran her eyes over her friend's face. "What's going on? I'm here if you want to talk."

_No, I don't want to talk, but I'll pick up some food for you. The usual?_

"Yeah, and whatever you want. My card's in my purse."

_I'm not hungry, but thanks. _She headed to the back and left with Michonne's card, kissing Andre's forehead goodbye and complimenting his art.

Michonne crossed her arms and wondered what had happened with Carol since the forth. She didn't even get to talk to her at the cookout. She saw her and Shawn, and her and Daryl, but whenever she tried to talk to her, Rick or Carl or Andre would talk to her instead. And by the time that conversation was over, Carol had disappeared again. She was finally told by Denise Carol left early, and when Michonne looked in on Carol, she didn't open the front door. She was close to scaling the damn ivy and looking through the skylight to see what the hell had happened.

She didn't, but she was sorely tempted to. If Andre wasn't asleep in the car, she would have totally done it. It would have gone like this: her weight would probably cause the glass to break, she'd land on Carol's marble-top coffee table and died, but it would have been worth it to see for a second what the hell had made her friend close herself off. She left a note on her door to invite her over for breakfast the next day, but Carol said she had to help move furniture. That was a lie, because Carol never moved furniture. She just pretended to. Rick and Carl joined them to help lessen the leftovers, and Michonne expressed her confusion and doubts with Rick.

He was a good friend, and she liked talking to him, though Carol was a bit of a touchy subject. They worked through that more and more with each time they spoke about her, and Rick didn't seem bothered. He thought of their time together as a learning experience, and he would do better for his next relationship. Michonne was proud of him for getting to that point, and he asked her over for dinner with Carl. She had no other plans, so she went and found Carol lurking around down with an ice cream tube. She also confronted her about this morning, but she looked like she had bigger problems. Problems, Michonne had hoped she'd discuss with her, but it was fine. It was. They'd get there when Carol was ready. She hoped.

The front door opened ten minutes later, Carl ran over and tackled Michonne in a hug, grinning at her. She ruffled his hair and told him Andre was in the back, and Rick apologized for being late. They had to clean his teeth and once again talk about the importance of flossing.

"It's okay." She glanced at the back. "I'm worried about Carol. Have you heard anything?"

"Not really." He adjusted the sleeve to his shirt. "Other than she and Daryl are going out."

"They're fixing his house."

"Not the story I've heard." He didn't care for rumors, but the source of this was trusted. He knew Densie didn't spread stories, and he knew it had to be something for how Daryl had been acting at the store lately. He kept checking his phone and asking Dale for advice without really telling him the problem. There was something going on there.

"I don't want a story. I want to know the truth. She won't tell me, so I have to ask Daryl." She heaved a sigh. "I don't want to ask Daryl."

"Do you want me to?"

"No, I can handle it. I just don't want more of his bad mood." She dropped her arms to her sides. "That aside, what are the plans for today?"

"Well, we're going to the water park for a couple hours then dinner at the diner, and I'll pick you up for dessert at my place."

"How bold of you to assume I won't have already had dessert by the time I close." She smirked.

"Then second dessert." He couldn't keep a straight face and laughed. "I'll see you tonight then?"

"I close at eight, and could you get a to-go dinner for me? Just a salad—"

"—and an order of fries," he finished with her. "You want a soda, too?"

"No ice."

"Got it." He pointed to the back, and she nodded. "That back door has no alarm, right?"

"Yeah." She watched him leave and heard the front door open as Enid and Noah ran inside and over to the fish tanks. She chuckled and greeted Tara. "Good to see you."

"Every day, right?" She offered a hug. "Good to see you look happier each time."

"It's summertime. I have a good flow of customer and my baby is with me. I don't have to check homework when I get home. I also don't have to pay a babysitter."

"And it has nothing to do with my deputy?" Tara smirked at the blush on Michonne's cheeks. "My mistake."

"It is your mistake. He was involved with my best friend, and it hasn't even been a month since then. I wouldn't do that to her. Our sons are friends, and we're friends."

"Then why did you say "involved" and not "dated"? It's a good way to distance it, huh?" She arched a brow at Michonne to dare her to challenge her. "Just be sure it's worth it, you know, if it happens once the month has passed."

"Why don't you just enjoy the animals with your kids?" She turned on her heel and walked behind the counter, exhaling at the irritation brewing in her chest. Tara wasn't wrong. Michonne tried to ignore it, but there was an attraction there. She didn't want to be his rebound from the rebound, and as much as she loved Carol, that exactly what she was, only it failed massively. Michonne didn't want that. She hadn't dated in years, and if she was going to date a man who her son liked and who got along with his son, she wanted it to be real. She wanted it to mean something bigger than a rebound. She knew Rick wasn't even in the place to date, and she wasn't going to make anything of this. And if she did, she'd talk to Carol first. They were adults, best friends, family, and Michonne owed it to her to talk about what Rick and she might become.

A to-go box was placed in front of her, Michonne looked over at Carol and smiled a thanks.

_Where's Andre? I bought him some chicken fingers and curly fries. _She hadn't seen him in the break room, and his stuff was gone, too.

"Oh, Carl just finished up at the dentists and wanted to play. I figured it'd be better than having him sit inside on such a nice day." She picked up her meal. "You can eat the chicken fingers, if you want."

_How is Carl doing?_

"He's doing great. He's thrilled to become a big brother. He loves hanging out with Andre. He's having a good summer, and we're a little bummed he's going back next month, but we're going to make the most of it."

_We? You and Andre?_

"Yeah, but mostly me and Rick." She studied those ocean orbs as she dropped his name. "We're planning a little trip to the amusement park followed up by a slumber party. Just a little celebration to kick off the school year, but that's for August."

She nodded. _Sounds like it'll be a good time._

"Yeah, it should be. We're both excited about it." She cleared her throat. "I'd invite you, but it's really just for the kids, and... you don't have any."

She chuckled softly. _Well, I hope Enid and Noah have a good time then._

"Yeah. I'll have to ask Tara or Denise about it once it's all planned out, and they know where the kids will be."

_I'll watch the front while you eat._

"Thanks." She paused. "How are you and Daryl doing? With the house and everything?"

_It's going. _She shrugged a shoulder. _We're almost done, so he'll be leaving soon, I bet._

"I'm sorry. That must be rough."

_It is what it is. Now go eat before your food is cold._

She set a hand over hers on the counter. "I'm always here for you, Carol."

_I know you are, and I'm really okay._

There was a moment where both women wanted to discuss the real issues in their lives, black eyes in blue, and all of their years together made the other a safe haven. They had been through just about everything together, and they wanted to have an open and deeply honest conversation, because Carol was shaken about the decision in front of her, and Michonne was starting to fall for the guy who had pursued Carol for over a year. There were doubts there and uncertainties, but they hadn't even worked most of it out for themselves, so the moment passed.

Michonne walked to the back to have her lunch, and Carol manned the counter, greeting Enid and Noah as they came to buy some animal-shaped suckers. There was still a lingering urge to talk, but it wasn't the time for it now. But soon Carol would need her best friend, and Michonne already needed Carol, but guilt and worry caused a rift.

––

Michonne called and let Carol know the store wouldn't be open today. Andre caught a bug yesterday and was puking all over the place. Carol offered to come and make some soup for him, but Michonne was on the way to the doctor's. She asked her to come by tonight, though, and Carol promised. She told her to kiss Andre for her, and they disconnected the call.

Carol dragged herself out of bed and decided to take the initiative. She glanced over the weather report and mentally groaned at the temperature but changed into some jeans and a tank top, tying her hair back into a ponytail and shove on her converse. She jogged out to her car and felt like she'd slipped into an oven. She flicked on the air and pulled out, praying it kicked on in two seconds or less.

By the time she arrived at Daryl's, the air had just gotten cold and she hated everything. She didn't bother knocking, knowing he left the door open since nobody ever come to see him but her and maybe Dale. She walked in and instantly tripped over something, smacking into the wall.

"Who the hell?!" Daryl stormed down the stairs and found Carol on the floor. "You're the hell."

She winced and attempted a wave.

"What the fuck are you doing? I told you not to come over. I have wood everywhere."

_I thought you were lying to avoid seeing me. I didn't seriously believe you had wood everything! _She minded her legs over the stacks of floorboards around her and exhaled. _Why didn't you move these?_

"I am. Just, like, right now. They're heavy." He moved around them. "Spike ain't even in the house right now."

_You have that baby outside in this heat?_

"He has one of those water hose sprinkler attachments with him." He looked her over once he reached her. "You all right? How's the cut from the other day?

_I'll have bruises on my ankle, but I'm good. That cut is mostly health. It's scabbing now. _She accepted his hand and stood up. _Thanks._

"Well, since you just broke into my house, you're helping me lay out the flooring for the bedrooms."

_Oh, whoa, no. I don't know how to do that. I don't want to do that, and I did not break in. The door wasn't even locked. Any nutjob could walk in here. It just happened to me._

He chuckled. "Too bad. Grab two from this pile."

_Didn't you saw it was heavy?_

"When you're tryin' carry a four whole stacks, yeah."

_Oh, my God, Daryl. That's dangerous. You're here entirely alone. Why would you do that? _She scolded him. _If I hadn't checked on you, you could have in a lot of trouble. You could have seriously injuried yourself, maybe died if you fell down the stairs and broke something._

"I got you now, so haul. Please." He collected another stack and went upstairs.

She inhaled to calm herself and decided to kill him later. She helped him haul up all the boards, but he first tossed a pair of gloves down at her face. He swore he was aimming for her feet, and she huffed and flipped him off. He seemed to seriously think about it, and she blushed, telling him to get to work. He laughed, and they moved the correct boards to the correct bedrooms, and Carol saw he'd torn up the old floors.

_Why did you do this? _She gestured to the floors, tucking the gloves into her pocket.

"I just...woke up and hated it." He scratched his thumb over his nose. "Got some fresh paint yesterday, too."

_I thought you weren't going to do anything with this room. Well, these rooms. They were for the buyers._

"They are, but I might be getting my nephew in August while his mom is on a business trip, and I want him to have a nice room." He smiled somewhat. "I decided it'd be a waste to make one nice room and not do the others. Ain't like I'm in a rush."

_I suppose not. _She tucked loose hair from her ponytail behind her ear. _So, what now? I want to help make a room for Peter._

"Don't you have a job?" He leaned against the doorframe and eyed her.

_I do, but Michonne's son is sick. She's taking him to the doctor's, and the store is closed, so I have a free day. I'm part time anyway, so bite me._

"Tell me where," he murmured.

_You should stop murmuring. It's hard for me to make it out. _She stepped closer, and his cheeks felt hot. _Unless you don't want to me make it out, which is rude._

"You don't need to hear everything I say." He pushed off the frame and got into her personal space, causing her to look pink now, and he smirked. "If you're staying, the tennis shoes need to go. There's loose nails everywhere."

_I don't have any work boots._

"I do, but they're clearly gonna be oversized." He took a step towards his bedroom. "Unless you wanna just go home now."

She kicked her converse off and snagged them off the floor, and they went to his bedroom. She set her shoes by the couch and saw him going through his closet before he stepped out and tossed a pair of boots by his bed. She noticed they were new or lightly used, and she sat on his bed to put them on, and he eyed her for a moment before realizing he'd tossed them out like he was going to put them on. It was a habit, and also an accidental invitation for Carol to get on his bed.

"You good?" He watched her slip them off. "You can always just watch."

_You already dragged me into it, so no thanks. I'm in this, too. _She stood up. _I used to walk in my dad's shoes all the time._

"Yeah, twenty years ago."

_Just hush. Show me what I need to do to help._

"I'd say go home, but I have for the past thirty minutes, and you haven't."

He was teasing, but Carol felt somewhat unwanted. _Do you really want me to leave? If you think I'll get in the way, I'll go. Or I can keep Spike company._

"I'd like some help with the rooms," he confessed. "I just...like gettin' you flustered. Highlight of my day."

She playfully rolled her eyes. _Just lead the way._

He didn't have time to show her everything, so he gave her the basics, and he made sure he collected almost every lose nail he could. She picked up on it quickly, and he was impressed. She asked about his nephew while they worked, and he was surprised how easy it was to talk about him. Carol seemed to be able to get any information out of him with a few simple questions, and she supplied some details on her life as well, though he could tell she didn't want to. He knew it was about him leaving soon, and when they were done here, he might be gone that much sooner. He still didn't know if Peter was even coming down. His mom might ship him off her sister's, but he hoped. He'd begged. Maybe she'd listen.

No one knew this, but Daryl didn't have an older brother anymore. Merle had overdosed and died when Peter was two years old. He'd gotten better when he found out he was going to be a father, but he relapsed one final time, and his choice had been polluted. It wasn't clean, and it killed him. Daryl broke for a good year and a half, but he knew Merle wouldn't want that. Merle had changed himself for his son, but addiction caught up to him, as it had their dad and their mom, and Daryl vowed to be there for Peter through everything.

He didn't count on Peter's mom hating him. He didn't know why until he learned Merle had tried to reach him, tried to ask him for help through the urges, and Daryl had been move around so much that he didn't get the messages. He lost in phone in one city and moved to the next without contacting Merle to let him know. She partly blamed Daryl for not being there for Merle, and she tried to keep Peter away from him ever since, but sometimes she would remember that Merle wanted Daryl in his life and let Peter see him. Sometimes had become rarely, and he couldn't remember when the last time he even saw the boy in person was. Honestly, he doubted Peter even remembered him at all.

Carol's hand landed on his back, and they decided to take a break. They sat on the top of stairs, drinking water and stretching out their backs. Carol lied back and closed her eyes, pressing the water bottle to her brow, enjoying the feel of the air conditioning on her body, and she wanted to stretch her legs out, but she'd definitely lose Daryl's boots down the stairs. She'd just take what she could get.

Daryl looked over when Carol lied down, her tank top hiking up over her belly, and he averted his eyes, but it didn't go very far. He tried not to look, but his eyes weren't listening to his brain. He saw she had flawless skin, untouched by the sun and a creamy white. She wasn't all skin and bones either, a little pudge on her belly, and his mouth dried at the thought of how soft her skin must be.

He groaned and flopped back beside her, she looked over at him when a puff of air smacked her, and he rolled his eyes to the left to gaze her. She smiled, and he returned it, closing his eyes. They lied there together for about thirty minutes more, enjoying the silence and the feel of someone beside them. They didn't speak or move, just relaxed and were still. It felt incredible to Daryl, because he'd never been able to actually do this before. Relax after working hard, but her presence soothed him.

Then it was right back to the grind, and they finished up one of the rooms. Daryl congratulated her on her efforts, and she grinned up at him. They moved to the next one, and Carol loved the gray wood color. She mentioned it was lining her cottage, and he was a little stunned. He thought she'd have more colors, and she assured him the couch and the plants and the bedding provided plenty of color.

"Maybe I'll see for myself one day, get some fresh herbs off you."

She rolled her eyes. _As if!_

He chuckled. "Let's get to work."

––

It was after nine when they finished two and a half rooms, Daryl said he'd get to the others tomorrow, and Carol offered to assist. He didn't say yes or no, just smacked her arm light with a glove and said he'd buy her a drink. He let Spike inside and rubbed him down, and Spike panted blissfully at the scrubbing to his belly then caught the familiar scent of Carol and took off like a shot. She barely caught him before he hugged her, and Daryl tracked him down to get him dry before they left.

Daryl drove her to his favorite bar and ordered a couple beers and burgers, and they sat in a booth in the back. Carol was starving and picking at the nuts in the basket at the center of the table, and he told her the food oughta be out soon.

"How have you been since the fourth?" It suddenly hit Daryl that he had ordered beer, and for all he knew she was pregnant. Or waiting to see if the sperm had...done their job. Fuck. "Can you have beer? Shit, I didn't even think about that."

She caught his wrist and shook her head.

"I can get you water instead."

_No, it's okay. I'm not pregnant. I haven't spoken to Shawn yet about getting a sample. _She smiled awkwardly at the use of that word. _I need a drink. It's all good._

"Oh." He sat back down and nodded. "Why haven't you talked to him yet? I thought you were delighted by the news. You cried."

_I've been busy with the store._

"Bullshit. You could have gone over there, fucked him and gotten pregnant in thirty minutes." He didn't mean to sound so brash, but there was no taking it back. He could just calm his ass down for the next sentence. "It isn't hard to get pregnant."

_I know it isn't hard to get pregnant, but... I'm a little scared. I honestly thought he'd need more time, and I would have it all worked out at that point. He thought it over faster than I expected, and I don't know what step to take next. Oh, and for the last time, we won't be having sex to make this baby, okay?_

"I know. It was just... a slip up. I'm sorry." He lowered his eyes. "You have doubts?"

_I do. I have...so many doubts in my head at all times. _She released a prolonged sigh and explained. _I'm limited, and I hate to say that, but I am. I'm worried the baby might be lonely or feel neglected because I can't hear them cry. I won't know they might need soothing. I'm worried the baby might be hurt, but I won't know immediately. I'm worry I'll mess this kid up, because there's only so much I can do to read a baby. And what if because I'm deaf, I delay its development somehow? Like its speech? And that affects other growth? What if I can't do it by myself?_

"Hey, hey, that's just nerves. Fuck them. You'll do great. You don't even know your full limits with a newborn. You'll have to work a little harder, but you always do."

She huffed defeatedly. _You're only saying that, but honestly you don't know. I could ruin this kid. I could ruin myself trying._

"You're just scared. It'll pass."

_But it's not passing, Daryl. _She met his eyes and her lips parted, trying to explain how frustrating these emotions were. _If anything, it's getting worse, and I don't know what to do. Shawn is ready to help me make this baby, but I don't know if I'm ready to have this baby. I can't undo it once it's done, and I can't think of talking to Shawn about it right now._

"Then give it some more time. I mean, just wait." He searched her eyes and clasped her hand to stop her from talking. "Just wait, okay? We'll eat and have a couple drinks. Play some pool, if you want. Or darts. Just...don't think it right now. For the next hour, don't think about it."

She managed to nod.

"I'll be right back."

Daryl returned with their beers and a couple shots of tequila. Carol immediately said no, but he coaxed her into it. She frowned but took the shot. She told him not to go home to the dock after this, and he promised. They drank half of their beers before their food came out, and they devoured every piece of food on the plate. Daryl offered Carol his pickle, she didn't miss the chance to make a dirty joke, and he stole a fry for having to listen to it. She swiped a piece of bacon from his burger, and he said that was a true crime right there. They laughed, and she told him she'd make it up to him.

They ate, played some pool and drank a couple more beers, a buzz setting in for Daryl, though Carol was a lightweight, and he was starting to realize just how much of a lightweight. He also learned Carol was a little flirty while drink. She couldn't sign so well, but she kept touching him unnecessarily. He would remove her hands and tell her to focus on the pool game, and she would, but they'd end up in the same cycle. He tried to laugh it off, because he really wanted to just kiss her.

She was so gorgeous, half leaning, half supported by the pool table, her hair down and messy around her shoulders, her lips red and glossy, and her smile was more intoxicating than anything else he'd had that night.

"Let's get you home." Daryl paid their bill and escorted Carol out of the bar, and they almost tripped on the steps build into a sloop down to where he'd parked. "Shit."

She stumbled, but he caught her waist, and her arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled her closer and upright. She searched his eyes and moved to kiss him, but he stopped her. She didn't seem to get why he'd moved away, and he told her to lean on him. He walked her to the car and felt her hand on his chest again, only her fingers were moving, spelling, and it was sloppily written out, but he was able to tell what she was trying to say.

_I... like... you... too._ It was spelled much worse through her fingers, but that was what it meant. He wanted nothing more than to ask her if she was serious, but she was drunk and couldn't be trusted. He lifted her into the passenger seat and checked her purse for an address. He couldn't take her back to his place. He needed some space to process some things, and he didn't want to deal right now. He never thought he'd hear that or feel that, and he just couldn't right now. He couldn't.

He found her wallet and address, knowing this place from some haunted stories Noah told him now and then when he'd come by to help him out. He drove to the address and found the half-hidden path, carrying Carol since she'd passed out on him, and he dug out her keys, seeing an alarm system was in place. He knew it'd be loud, and he didn't want to deal with her waking up right now, but he noticed a cracked window by the kitchen and knew it hadn't been armed yet.

He unlocked the door and held his breath, but it was silent. He closed the door and found himself standing in Carol's home. It was like a catalogue cottage, and it was fucking cool. She had herbs growing out of the shelves built into the wall, a nice little kitchen with up-to-date equipment. A cozy living room/ kitchen, and behind the TV was another room, but he didn't want to open the door, because it wasn't the bedroom. He could see the bedroom now, and he approached it.

There was a half wall just below the bedroom where her bathroom was, blue and white frosted ovals and circles hung down to connect the edge of the bedroom to the half wall, acting as a cover almost. He peeked inside and saw a seriously expensive shower built into the wall, tile flooring, a blue and white marbled toilet, and the counter lining the forested glass wall had the same blue and white marble. It made him want to brush his teeth and shower, which was weird for a bathroom, but all right.

He climbed the spiraled staircase, wondering how in hell she could afford this place and pulling Carol closer to keep her from hitting her head on the wall. He seriously prayed she never walked this drunk. She was liable to fall and break her neck. Hell, he might have if he didn't have good balance. Fuck.

He came off the last step and found her bedroom fit her to a damn T. The bed was half hidden as it was area around her bed was built into the wall and likely was meant to be a closet of a sort, but she said fuck it and shoved a whole ass bed into it. He almost laughed. The bed fit well, and she had plenty of room for her nightstands and dressers. It felt secure to walk on, too. He was impressed.

He set her down on the bed, finding a trashcan nearby and resting her on her side with a couple pillows to support the posture. He removed her shoes and let them drop wherever, moving back when she moaned as if she was waking, but she didn't.

"Okay." He backed up and nodded his head. "Good. That works."

He padded down the stairs and was ready to roll out when a wave of nausea rolled over him from the carrying and bouncing down the stairs and the tequila shots. He gagged and barely made it to the toilet before he hurled. He expelled everything from his stomach and knew then why he didn't do tequila shots.

By the time his guts were empty and the waves of nausea were sated, he was too weak to walk. He crawled over to the couch, grabbing a pillow from it, and he died right there on the floor. He wasn't moving. He wasn't doing anything else. He was done for today. Good fucking night.

– – –

Carol woke up to sunlight landing in her eyes, boiling her precious and highly sensitive eyeballs, and she groaned, covering her face with a pillow. It was too much force, and she whined at the smack to her face. She could smell her shampoo on her pillows and felt nausea rolling in. She threw the pillow off and sat up, the entire world moving with her as her brain screamed at her. She wanted to die. This was hell.

She saw her bedroom before her and her shoe-less feet, a shaky gasp escaping her lungs. She pushed herself up and over to the railing to see into the downstairs. She instantly saw Daryl on the floor of her living room and fell down to hide. She shook her head and felt more panic than pain. She didn't let men into her home. She didn't let them anywhere near where she lived. The only man was Andre, and he was just a little boy. How did this happen?

She was still dressed, and he was downstairs fully dressed, so they didn't have drunken sex at her place. They just somehow ended up here instead of going back to his place. He had no idea where she lived, how the hell did he get her home? She knew they left that bar alone. Maybe. She couldn't recall the leaving, just the burgers and the conversation about the baby, but nobody could have told Daryl about her home. Only Tara, the seller and Michonne knew where she lived. It was hidden on a broken trail with warning signs, and wild animals kept people away, so how?

She pulled her legs up to her chest and noticed her purse wasn't with her. She scanned the area to be sure and stood up to check, and sure enough it was on the coffee table. He likely dug her wallet out of her purse and got the address, but even then it was a hike to get here. And all the steps and the alarm. How did he get by all of that? He had just as much to drink as she did.

She noticed Daryl's hair ruffling against the pillow and looked up to see the trees bending. It was windy, and she could even smell rain on the breeze. She left a window open, and the alarm system didn't arm. Son of a bitch! She could have thrown herself over the ledge. She always was sure to set it. She was just so determined yesterday. Ugh, what the hell was wrong with her?

She carried herself downstairs and walked behind the couch to slam the window shut, engaging the alarm and turning to Daryl to wake him up. She saw he was rousing on his own, his eyes bloodshot and aching, and she knew she couldn't just kick him out. He had done a nice thing, bringing her home and leaving her a trashcan and on her side. He took care of her, so she needed to do the same for him. Even if it was in her home.

_Good morning. _She stood over him, and he rubbed his palm into his eye, wincing at the overhead light. _I'm going to take a shower, but there's aspirin in the kitchen. You can make coffee, too, if you want._

_Thanks. _He couldn't imagine speaking right now, and he was so fucking pleased Carol couldn't talk, because he would cry if he heard words. His own thoughts were killing him. Fuck, the booze was nothing on the vomit. It'd kicked his ass. He felt like death.

Carol went to the bathroom and found how his party ended last night. She groaned and flushed the toilet, sending him a glare he couldn't see, and she cracked open the window behind the toilet for some fresh air. She undressed and dropped her clothes into the hamper, stepping into the shower, the glass tinting automatically, and she sat on the floor to just let the water wash over her. She'd clean up later.

Daryl managed to peel himself up off the floor and found the aspirin, tempted to snort them so they'd kick in faster, but he wasn't for that life anymore. He tossed about six of them back and cupped water to his mouth, his brain not thinking to get a glass, and he slouched against the counter, looking out the window and enjoying the pre-storm breeze. He hoped he rolled his windows up, because he wasn't going out there right now. Fuck all of that.

It was nearing noon when the pair were able to function like regular humans, Carol decided to make lunch, and Daryl looked up through the skylight as the rain poured down overhead. Daryl had told her he liked her place and all that happened last night, and she was grateful she hadn't done anything too embarrassing. He assured her she hadn't, and he offered to help her with lunch, but she had it.

Daryl watched her back as she prepared lunch, and he smiled to himself, enjoying this day even though they'd spent the morning in pain and drinking water and not speaking words. He wanted more afternoons like this, with her, and he stood up as she turned around with two plates.

"Smells good." He walked over to the thin wooden island. "Any drinks?"

_Just some juice in the front. White cranberry, I think. Do you want some? It's really good._

"Why not? I'll get it. Where do you keep your glasses?"

She pointed to the built-in rack over the counter where glass mugs rested.

"Rustic." He smirked and pulled two down. "Ice?"

_It's in the tray. I don't want any. _She tucked hair behind her ear and waited for him to pour the drinks and join her.

"Here." He set the cups down and looked over the grilled cheese on the plate in front of him. It wasn't just a grilled cheese. He could already tell, and it smelled so good. "What is this?"

_It's a grilled cheese with a little herb and oil, some country ham, fresh tomato and three types of cheese. It's my go-to hangover meal._

"And you're sharin' it with me?"

_It's not a secret recipe. It's just a favorite. My dad used to make it for me, and I just added to it. I hope you like it._

He lifted it up and took a huge bite out of it, oil and tomato juices rolling down his chin. She offered a napkin, smiling in amusement at him, and he wiped his chin off. "Damn, that's good."

_Yeah? You like it? I grew the tomatoes and herbs, and I baked the bread a couple days ago. It's good?_

"You—you made this bread?" His brows shot up in amazement. "Dude, it's fuckin' good."

_I learned from Annette. Andre used to be super picky about bread and crust, so I just made him some instead. He grew out of his issues, but I like to make it now and then._

He couldn't believe this woman, and he wanted to know more about her, even more than he already knew. He wanted to keep being surprised by her, and fuck, he really wanted her. He had no right to her, not when he kept blowing up on her and he might be leaving, but he had to try.

"Carol?"

She was in the middle of chewing, but she met his eyes.

"C—could you wait?" He gulped and clarified what. "I mean, could you wait on havin' a baby? Please?"

She searched his eyes, seeing beyond the clear blues and the shifting, and she swallowed with some difficulty. She averted her eyes for moment, not sure of what she'd seen. It'd been so long since she'd seen it, and she wanted to ask him if he was sure, but she knew he wouldn't ask this if he wasn't. She licked oil off her thumb and met his eyes again.

_Okay._


	11. The Graveyard Shift

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

––

Daryl and Carol spent that rainy day together, having white cranberry juice and talking. Lighting candles when the power went out, and Daryl hoped Spike was okay with being home alone in the storm, but he knew he likely fine. Or if he wasn't, he'd hole up in Daryl's closet and wait it out. He'd have to reward him when he got home that night, but he had another person keeping his attention right now. And he didn't want to die in this storm, because the wind was whipping so hard, and there was even some hail.

Honestly, it was amazing to spend the time together. They talked about real things this time, and Carol tried to explain the change from hearing to deaf, and it broke his heart that someone had done this to her. She got a little emotional in the middle of the conversation, and he assured her she didn't have to say anything she wasn't ready for. She continued on and assured him she was good to talk. He was proud of her, to be honest, to watch her struggle through that past and become this person. He was bit envious, and he decided to make a change in himself. He didn't know where to start, but he'd figure it out. For himself.

When the storm died down that night, Daryl decided to leave and check on Spike. She offered to walk him out, but he said he'd manage. He borrowed her umbrella and said he'd see her tomorrow. They parted at the doorway, and Carol exhaled deeply with him gone and knew it was time for that talk. She was in over her head, and she needed Michonne.

So, first thing in the morning when the store was open, Carol flipped the sign to closed and locked the door, and Michonne demanded to know what the hell she was doing. She answered by grabbing her hand and hauling her to the back. She threw her coat and purse into the seat beside her and motioning for Michonne to sit too.

"What is going on?" Michonne felt dizzy just watching Carol. "Are you all right?"

_No, I am not okay. I have so many things I have to tell you, but I need to not ask me questions until I'm done. It's a long story, and my hands keep shaking. _She held up her shaky hands to show for proof, and Michonne nodded. _Okay?_

"All right, just...lay it on me."

_Here we go. Last month I asked Shawn for sperm, so I could make a baby, because my relationships are dead end, and I want kids. I really do, and I trusted him more than anybody else, so I asked him. And he gave me an answer at the cookout on the fourth; he agreed to do it. _She watched the face journey Michonne was taking, and she continued. _But there's a problem now. Well, two problems. The first is that I don't think I am ready for a baby, or if I am, I don't want it to be Shawn's. I... I don't know whose baby I want, but it isn't his._

_And the second?_ Michonne signed, not breaking the no questions rule, because she didn't speak.

_I think I have feelings for Daryl._

"What?!" Michonne erupted. "No, no continue. I'll wait."

_I don't know when they started, but a couple nights ago we went out drinking, and we talked about the baby situation. He told me to wait, but he had so much faith in my ability to have a child. He wanted me to wait for my best interest, and we got so drunk trying to keep my mind off this huge choice I have to make. He stayed over at my place that night, but we didn't have sex. _She could see the questions building in Michonne's eyes. _The next morning, we were hungover, so we just signed until we felt better. I made lunch, and he asked me to wait again, but he didn't mean for me. He meant for us. And I told him I would, because I want to know where this could go, but I'm scared. He hasn't mentioned wanting to leave town since, and yeah, it's only been a couple hours, but still. It could become longer, right? And he meant it, Mich. He really meant it. I already knew he liked me, but I didn't know it was this much or that I felt it back. _

Michonne watched as Carol panted soundlessly and awaited her response, and she heaved a sigh. "You wanted a baby with Shawn? And you never told me? You never told me, but you told Daryl?"

_He was there after Shawn agreed._

"You still had all that time to tell me, but you didn't. And you were having doubts about it, and you still didn't talk to me. Why?"

_Because you do everything perfectly. You made the right choices and are sure of them. I don't. And I needed something for myself._

"What's Daryl doing in it then?"

_Because he was there._

"And I wasn't? I'm not?" She was on her feet, arms folded over her chest, trying to keep her composure. "And that's bullshit. I am not perfect. I make the wrong choices all the fucking time. You were there for most of them! How can you say that to me?"

_Michonne, are you serious? You built a business out of nothing. You raise your son. You—you do all the right things, and you learn from the mistakes. I can barely figure out what the hell I did wrong to end my last two relationships._

"So, you and all your wrong decision are going to have a baby?"

_I'm not pregnant. I haven't even spoken to Shawn since he agreed. And you're missing the point. Daryl and I are the point._

"Oh, don't get me started on that." She scoffed. "He is leaving this town. He has made that known every day for two years, and all he wants from you is to get laid. He isn't the kind of man who stays, Carol. You have to know that. You're smart, but you pick the wrong guy over and over and over and come here and expect me to make you feel better. You don't learn. You're right on that. You need to grow up. You are not ready for a child."

Her eyes burned. _He doesn't want to just sleep with me. He isn't like Rick._

"Rick did want something with you, but he wasn't in the right place to start. His heart was behind his head, and he rushed into it with you. It was a mistake." She realized how harsh she was being. "I—I'm sorry. It's just the truth, Carol. You and Daryl might seem like a good choice now, but he'll leave at the end of the summer. He told Hershel that. Shawn, too."

_He isn't like that. You don't know him, but you and Rick seem pretty damn chummy. Are you the right choice for him now? _

"Don't even go there. I am not involved with Rick. We are friends."

_But you're defending him more than you've ever defended me. If you're fucking him and didn't tell me but come after me because of Daryl and Shawn and a baby I'm not sure I want for not telling you about them, you're a fucking asshole. _

"Yeah, I am, because I've seen what men do to you. You lose all sense around them." Her eyes were filling with tears. "I love you so much, Carol, but you need to leave this be. You and Daryl won't work. You and Rick didn't work out. It's not... It's just a cycle. You aren't breaking it. You're actually making it worse by trying to date a man who is dead set on leaving. You can't change everyone, Carol. You have to know that by now."

_I am not trying to change anybody but myself and the direction my life is going in. I'm not happy, Michonne, and I know a baby isn't going to fix that, but that doesn't make my desire to have one lessen. _She stood up. _And so what if Daryl and I just screw around? I've never done that before, so why not give it a shot? What do I have to lose?_

"You don't want that."

_What I don't want is my best friend defending my ex and not denying she's had sex with him. All I wanted was your advice on how to move forward with Daryl and with this baby. I just wanted... Fuck, I didn't want to fight with you, but a lot is clear now. _

"Do you even like Daryl? Honestly? Or are you just playing off what he feels for you? Because you've done that before, and it was hell on both of us. You're highly emphatic, and I love that about you, but you need to step back and think about it."

_I'm not a little girl anymore, Michonne. I'm not waking into a relationship with a man is going to brutalize me. I trust Daryl, okay? It feels right to trust him, and I don't know what that means, but I want to find out. I want to be with him, and I wanted your support. That's all._

"I'm sorry, but you won't get it. You do know Daryl best, but I don't trust a guy who constantly is trying to run. It's running from something, you know that much, right? He isn't good for you."

_You don't know him, and clearly, I came to the wrong person. I'll make this decision on my own, and I'm taking a couple days off. I have to talk to Shawn, and I have a doctor's appointment._

"No, you don't."

_I will. _She collected her things. _You're supposed to the one person I trust with everything, but all you did was judge a man you only know by rumors and not trust me with my own feelings. _

"You wanted the truth, so I gave it. Maybe Daryl will prove me wrong. I hope he does, but in the end, he'll leave here, because everybody does. That's just the way of it." She tried to console Carol, but she moved back. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to get hurt. It's like nothing I do ever prevents that, so I wanted to try a different approach."

_The approach where it's you who hurts me?_ A tear rolled down her cheek. _Good job. It worked._

"I have to the bad guy sometimes, because the last time I didn't, you lost your hearing. I can't handle you losing something else to some other jackass, okay?" She wiped at her eyes. "You are my family, same as my baby boy, and I can't let anybody hurt you. Not Daryl, not Rick, and I wish it hadn't been me, but if it was then I can make it better. It was just hurt feelings, but Ed? I can't make that better, Carol. I live with that every day, and I can't trust that you won't meet another man like him."

_You don't get to do that. You don't get to make your words about Ed. You don't. _She was crying even more now, and she wanted to sink into the earth. This wasn't at all the conversation she had planned. _How can you bring him up? How? After I've asked to never mention him again? Hasn't he taken enough of my life?_

"Because you worry the shit out of me." Her voice broke, and she dropped her arms. "Bad luck is attracted to you in so many ways, but only lately has it gotten better. I worry that's over, and I'm going to get a call from your mom telling me to meet her at the hospital all over again. I worry that the next time will be the last time, and I can't lose you."

Carol shivered, still remembering that night years ago when she thought it that night would be the night, and everything would be perfect. She just wanted to be with him in every possible way, but she chickened out. He wouldn't take no for an answer, and she fought back. He pinned her down and screamed at her _could she not hear him?_ He said yes, he wanted it, and so would she. He tried to rape her, and when he couldn't because she fought, he beat her, deafened her and knocked her unconscious. She didn't know if he raped or her not after he knocked her out. Her mother never confirmed that, but she lived like he had for seven years. Michonne and her parents helped her through it, therapy and group sessions. And when she was ready to date again, she found the perfect man who was patient and kind, and they were together for three years, but they grew into different people.

"What happened that night changed all of us, Carol, and you can't act like you were the only one affected. It haunts me, seeing you lying there in that hospital bed, thinking you were dead, because you were completely black and blue and pale. I don't know what kind of man Daryl is, but I have to be wary of the stranger who's been in this town for two years and has made no friends but you." She snuffled. "It's a cause for concern, but I will try for your sake. I will, but please, if he acts suspicious at all, come and find me. We'll handle it. We can get Tara and Rick, and we'll handle it."

_He won't be like that, but if it'll make you happy, all right. I will. _

She smiled softly and closed the space between them. "You're great with Andre, but you're not ready for a child. Just give it some time. If you have these many doubts, you definitely need more time. But when you are ready, you'll be an amazing mother. Without a doubt."

_I'll let you know when I am ready. _

"I'd love that." She hugged her tightly. Daryl better be a good man, or she was going to kill him. She couldn't see Carol get hurt again. Emotionally or physically. She didn't want to end up at the hospital again or have to find Carol crying her eyes out, because some prick used her for weeks and then destroyed everything she thought about herself in one terrible breakup. They'd both grown since then, but it always felt right around the corner. Maybe it wasn't this time. And if it was, there wouldn't be a Daryl Dixon in this town anymore. He wanted out so damn bad, she'd let him go.

* * *

Carol left to get something to drink from the general store/gas station, finding Dale at the register. She smiled at him, and he waved her over.

_Good morning! What's going on? _She tucked hair behind her ear. _Is everything all right?_

"Yeah, it's okay. We just have a bit of a family emergency, and we're trying to talk Daryl into pulling an all nighter to watch over the store for us."

_An all nighter? This isn't a twenty-four hour store, though. Why would he need to do this?_

"Because we're having a trial run of being a twenty-four-hour store, and Daryl is the only other employee we have. We've tried to push it back due to emergency, but the window of opportunity might just pass us by. It'll be a slow night tonight, but I want Daryl to adjust to the possibility of having to pull an all-nighter or just working later into the evening until we can get someone else to cover the shift." He heaved a great sigh and shook his head. "But Daryl isn't going for it at all. I told him he could close up to check on Spike at midnight, and it's only a few more hours afterwards."

She nodded. _It is a lot to ask out of the blue, so I'm inclined to agree with Daryl here._

"Yeah, me too, but I'm not going to let him know that." He smirked playfully. "But enough about me and my problems; what can I do for you?"

_I was just coming to talk to Daryl._

"Talk him into staying late?"

_Afraid not. Just a talk about our relationship, which is much worse and more likely to lead to blushing and awkward tension._ She smiled at him and pointed to the back. _Can I find him back there?_

_If him is me then look no further. _Daryl joined the conversation and sent a smirk of his own to Carol then leaned against the counter, giving Dale a nod to more dismiss him than acknowledge him as he was still smarted after their conversation from this morning. He wasn't amused with being used to tend to a store long after his shift had ended. It was one thing to ask, but to assume he would agree without actually consulting with him dug under his skin like nails. He couldn't stand people making assumptions about him, even Dale and Nadia.

Carol smiled widely at him. "Hi."

Daryl blinked and shot a look to Dale, who looked back at Daryl with wide eyes, and Daryl pushed off the counter to close the space between them and grasped her arms. "Y—you just spoke? I thought you were mute, too."

Carol's blue eye rounded at the excitement in his eyes as well as the confusion, and she chuckled softly, feeling out of sorts as she hadn't spoken in many years. She had practiced the word over and over in the mirror and hoped it sounded okay. She couldn't ask anybody how it sounded, because she wanted it to be a surprise for him. It was certainly worth it! Gosh, his reaction and how he held her so tight yet so gently.

"Say it again," he whispered, searching her eyes. "Say anything."

"Any…thing," she lowly repeated, unsure of her voice, eyes lowering.

"Wow." He chuckled. Her voice was unsure and soft, but it sounded like sweet honey, sticking to the roof of her mouth but so worth it to savor. Amazing. "You can talk." He released her when he realized just how closely he held her. "Why didn't you speak sooner? And I thought you were mute."

She wasn't sure of her voice enough to answer, so she signed. _It's easier for people to assume I am both deaf and mute, so I simply agree. When I told you I couldn't speak, it was just to get my deafness across. It works faster that way._

"Your voice sounds so…weird," he decided, seeing her blush in horror, mouth agape. "Not bad weird, just…I can't believe I'm hearing it weird. I…kinda had a voice for you in my head, and it don't match up at all. I'm kinda glad. Yours is cuter—better! I meant, it's better than the one I made up." He blushed in horror now, and he turned to Dale to have him break up the tension, but the old man had slipped into the back while they were caught up. It was all on him now. Great.

"So," Carol touched his arm out of habit to get his attention, "are…you going to…stay?"

"Stay in town?" He shrugged a shoulder. "I don't know. I mean… I just dunno."

_No, silly, I mean stay late tonight to help them out. _She signed and searched his eyes. _You should. I could come and keep you company._

He thought about it for a moment then sighed. "I don't like leaving Spike alone for that long."

_Then I'll stop by and check to him. I can even bring him back with me. We can all hang out until the sun comes out. It'll be fun._

"Wait, you'll be here with me? Hanging around until the sun comes up?" He was more invested in staying late than he'd ever been. "Why?"

_Because I need to talk to you, and this would give me the whole night. _She searched his eyes. _Besides I like talking to you. _

"Me too," he admitted softly, a murmur of a confession. "I mean, what's the harm in staying a little late? And don't worry about Spike. I can ask Tara to look in on him. He loves her kids, and the kids love him, so that'll sort itself out."

"Good."

Daryl decided right then and there he loved the sound of her voice. It was unsure and honey sweet and perfect. It was a voice he wouldn't mind hearing for the rest of his life, helping her sound out words she wasn't comfortable saying, helping her adjust to speaking and signing and trusting him enough to know he would never embarrass her. God, what a life that would be.

"So, can I count you in, or do I have to lock up shop?" Dale returned when the conversation seemed to end, knowing that Carol could sway him before anybody else and hoping she had. Even if she agreed with Daryl. "Well?"

"I'll stay," Daryl replied, turning to the man and nodding. "It's fine."

"Oh, good. Thank you." Dale grinned at Carol and sent her a private wink then stood behind the counter to count down the drawer before leaving with Nadia. "I'm glad I could rely on you for this."

"Yeah, sure." Daryl looked down at Carol and nudged her in the ribs lightly. "Carol's gonna stick around with me. She might be the person to help cover this shift."

_Hey, I do have a job, you know._

"A part time position," he corrected. "This is full-time. You could afford to build onto your cottage."

She inhaled and exhaled slowly. _I couldn't do that to Michonne._

"Right, Michonne." He sent a look to Dale and joined him behind the counter. "I'll lock up at what time?"

"At seven in the morning."

Daryl heaved a groan and nodded. "I'll put on the coffee."

"You're welcome to a few energy drinks and a couple free snacks," Dale offered. "I know we just sprung this on you, so please. Help yourself to the homemade snacks, too."

"Thanks." He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. "Hey, you gonna check on Spike now or later?"

_I'll check on him now, refresh his water and food. _

It was then that the duo parted ways. Carol went to check in on Spike and played with him for a little while before refreshing his food and water bowl, popping on the TV so he had some noise to listen to. She locked up using the key Daryl had given her and headed back to the store.

Dale was long gone with Nadia, and Daryl was tossing a ball up and catching it mid-air. She handed over the key, but he told her to keep it. She wasn't entirely sure why he wanted her to keep the key, but she was happy to have easy access to that bundle of fur. And to his owner, should something happen between them tonight or some other night.

"So, why did you decide to start speakin' again?" Daryl peeked at her from behind the counter, stretching his arms over the counter and holding onto the ball on his right hand. "I mean, it's kinda sudden is all."

_I don't know. I guess I wanted…to be heard from certain people. _She approached the counter and smiled at him. _I want to be speaking again, but I'm scared I'll sound ridiculous. I haven't spoken in over fifteen years, maybe longer since I lost my hearing._

"Did you try and speak after you were deafened?" He wasn't sure this was the best place for this conversation, but he was curious and scared of how this happened to her. He was worried of the answers she might provide, and he was scared of what she might not tell him. It was a lose-lose situation, but he wouldn't poke unless he cared. And—perhaps surprisingly—he deeply cared for her. He was worried about the amount, because it wasn't going anywhere but up.

_For the first couple of months, but people looked at me so strangely that I stopped trying and resorted strictly to sign language. It made me feel safe and less awkward. _She tucked hair behind her ear and elaborated. _People treated me like I was broken, because I couldn't hear anymore. Because of the situation, and I hated it. I hated myself, so I stopped speaking as a form of punishment, but…I had a great friend who broke down my walls and learned how to speak to me for my sake._

"So, Michonne saved your life?"

"Yes." She inhaled and placed her hands on the counter. "What do we do first?"

His lips formed a smile, and he pulled out a gun from behind the counter, Carol jumped back, and he pointed it at her, tugging lightly on the trigger. Bubbles blew out at her face, and she giggled, reaching up her hands to grasp them, and he chuckled, straightening up at the counter. She blew at them, sending the rainbow reflections floating higher and higher, and he admired her for a moment, realizing in that moment why he was taking this time. He would have gulped if he hadn't already suspected as much.

They spent a few moments playing with the bubble gun, Carol was highly amused by the sight of the bubbles and their rainbow reflections, and Daryl was completely taken by the sight of her. She was a truly beautiful woman, and he let himself admit this as well as several other facts about her. He would normally find himself attracted to chaos, but Carol was far from chaos. She felt like a haven, and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her arms and revel in that safety. After a life of horror, perhaps…his brain finally learned its lesson and jolted his heart with it, so he was ready for a haven instead of a hell clad in leather and cigarettes.

They helped themselves to a few ice cream sandwiches, sitting outside and waiting for customers, but it was a slow day. School would be starting in a few weeks. It would be slow until the old timers came in for their favorite vacation spot. It was going to be a long night, but maybe that was a good thing, if he could spend it with her.

"I love this type of day," Carol said, slowly, unsure, but still pushing using her voice. She wanted to try to speak again. Being deaf and using sign language was still huge in her life, but she wanted to use all of her advantages for a change.

"Slow as all get out?" He ran his tongue along the length of the ice cream sandwich.

She shook her head. "No, just…this type of day."

He nodded, though he didn't fully understand what she meant about the day. He did enjoy spending this time with her. She was this…ball of light in his life, and he wanted to do nothing more than to let her shine on. He hoped that he was the kind of person who could allow it to flourish. He'd hate to the be the type to extinguish it.

They played around for most of the day, only a few people came into the store, mostly to put some good ole lemonade of Nadia's. Everyone else seemed to desire gas or snacks. It was a good night, filled with laughter and making fun of each other and servicing customers. Daryl even showed Carol how to use the register to ring customers up. She seemed to be enjoying herself. She was a good customer service agent, very humble and very kind. There were a few times when passing older gents would come in and playfully flirt with Carol. It was kind of sweet to see her blush like that, but it was all playful, and Daryl tried not to laugh at the warmth her blush brought to his very soul.

They settled outside, watching the sun set behind the clouds and enjoying some of Nadia's homemade snacks. Daryl wanted to make a move, to make a bold move, but he wasn't sure what to do exactly. Mostly his past girlfriends were the ones who made the move, but he didn't want to treat Carol like how he had been treated. He doubted she wanted to be grabbed, kissed and fucked over the bathroom sink. Or kissed and slipped a pill on the tongue. He didn't even have any pills, and he wouldn't do that anyway. He hated when that happened because he'd be fucked up for hours. He liked drugs, but he liked it being his choice. Not like that.

But he was getting off point. He wasn't sure how to approach a woman like her. He would have to be smooth and be sure she knew she had a choice in however he made his move. He had to be a man about it, but a gentle man, not a brute, not someone who was taking it by force. He just wasn't used to that. Force had painted his entire existence. He had to take what he wanted, or he would have nothing. So, how the hell was he doing to do this?!

She had been giving him signals all night. He was sure of that. He just didn't know how to move forward with that information. How could he be the only one of them stressing the fuck out right now? Where did any of his cool go? Jesus, he really had no game at all!

"Hey." Carol was standing in front of him. She had run inside the store to grab something and as before him now to present it with a wide grin on her lips.

"Hey." God, she was gorgeous when she smiled like that. And at it was pointed at him. Fucking hell. "What's up?"

She showed her hands and revealed bang snaps poppers. "Here."

"Shit. I knew we had some of these in the back, but I hadn't thought about 'em since I was a kid." He accepted the pack she offered and tore it open, seeing the small white drops inside. He stood up and set the near empty packet of gummies down, moving back from the bench and shaking a few out onto his palm. "All right. Stand back."

Carol moved to be by his side since she missed what he said, and she watched the handful fly through the air. Little shimmers of white that exploded into seven bright flashes and vanishing into of puff of smoke. The scent of burning filled the air, and Carol chuckled, remembering why she preferred fireworks, but still. It was pretty and fun.

They played with the poppers for about twenty minutes until they were all gone, Carol's laughter infected Daryl, and he was chuckling over surely nothing at all. It was just a great night to be alive and to be with her, and he couldn't just sit there a second longer without kissing her. He could hardly stand the thought of kissing her—of feeling her lips on his, of tasting her breath, of feeling the soft skin of her cheek against his palm—because the mere thought made him tremble and grow weak. But he had to. He hoped she let him. If not…he sorely misread signs and needed to be smacked.

He set a hand on her shoulder to get her attention, those crystal blues turned to him, and he gulped before signing if he could kiss her. She blinked and turned pink, but she nodded—holy fuck, she nodded—and closed her eyes. He inhaled curtly and released it, reaching up and grasping her chin. She was trembling underneath his touch, and he was laughed softly, mustering his courage.

He leaned down, her hands grasped his wrist on the hand that held her chin, and he feared for a moment she was going to push him away, but she didn't. She just wanted to hold him, and he closed his eyes, sealing her lips with his. Softly. Longingly. Earth-shakingly. For however longer those perfect lips met his again and again, the world didn't seem to exist.

Her fingers slipped into his hair, pulling him down to her and kissing him harder, with just a touch of tongue as she moaned, allowing him the access. Her heart was pounding in her chest as desire coursed through her, and she wanted him to be hold her, and she didn't realize he already was. As tightly as his arms would allow, he was holding her, and everything else seemed to fade away from her as his hands caressed her hips and brought her even closer to his body.

It was the perfect first kiss—kisses—and when they broke apart, a giggle of pure happiness passed through them both, and Daryl didn't let go of her. He had an inkling he might never let go of her again.


End file.
